


Keep the Fire Going for Me

by songsforfelurian



Series: Keep the Fire Going for Me [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Frotting, Keith gets off on Shiro in general, Keith gets off on Shiro's praise, Keith gets off on Shiro's voice, Keith is seventeen at the beginning, M/M, Mild Angst, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Romance, Shiro and Adam are still together at the beginning, Smut, Sparring, all sexual contact is consensual, also they're in love, and then Shiro gets off with Keith, self-deprecating Keith, tagged for secret masturbation, they both love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsforfelurian/pseuds/songsforfelurian
Summary: Keith doesn't handle praise well- or so Shiro thinks. They've been sparring together in one of the Garrison gyms ever since Keith got serious about his combat training, but anytime Shiro tries to tell him how much he's improving, Keith locks up. He gets defensive - angry, even - and his technique suffers for it.Shiro would be happy to let it go entirely if Keith wasn’t so obviously invested in their training together… but Keith is invested. He’s all fire and heart. He wants to be the best pilot, the best officer the Garrison has ever seen. He wants to be better than Shiro.---Keith has tried to keep it together, tried to set his feelings aside and listen to what Shiro has to say… but he can't. It's impossible. Because every time Shiro tells him he's done well… every time Shiro's eyes light up, every time he flashes that blinding smile, every time his voice goes fond with genuine praise-Every time that happens, Keith’s body threatens to betray him.He balls his hands into fists and braces them against the wall, painfully aware that his dick is rigid and leaking inside his Garrison-issue sweats.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Keep the Fire Going for Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081394
Comments: 54
Kudos: 168





	1. Showers. Now.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This originally started as a thread on Twitter, so the format and style are a bit different than my usual work! I tagged this for mildly dubious consent because of secret masturbation. That's the only reason- all actual sexual contact is very, very consensual. I will be uploading the seven chapters of the prekerb fic here, and then adding the epilogue and bonus scene as related works so they can stand on their own. Please drop me a line and let me know if you like the fic, or [come find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/forfelurian)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who supported the thread on Twitter, this has been a blast!
> 
> Fel

Keith doesn't handle praise well- or so Shiro thinks. They've been sparring together in one of the Garrison gyms ever since Keith got serious about his combat training, but anytime Shiro tries to tell him how much he's improving, Keith locks up. He gets defensive - angry, even - and his technique suffers for it. Shiro's tried saving his more detailed comments for the end of their training sessions, but that doesn’t work either. Keith inevitably makes some excuse to flee and bolts out of the gym before Shiro can even get to the constructive part of the conversation. It’s more than a little maddening, given how mature Keith seems otherwise at just seventeen. He’s as ambitious and dedicated as Shiro ever was at that age, more so than any of the other senior cadets Shiro has spent any time with, and Shiro’s seen him take both genuine praise and brutal critique from other officers without batting an eye. He’d be happy to let it go entirely if Keith wasn’t so obviously invested in their training together… but Keith _is_ invested. He’s all fire and heart. He wants to be the best pilot, the best officer the Garrison has ever seen. He wants to be better than Shiro.

Shiro knows this. Shiro wants that, too. But he knows it’s not going to happen if Keith can’t learn to loosen up and take his feedback.

“You’re favoring your left,” he says, nodding toward Keith’s left side as they circle each other on a training mat. He’s spent the last week trying different tactics to help Keith stay loose and focused, and this is his latest attempt. “Are you left-side dominant?”

“You know I’m not.” Keith is scowling, but he’s listening, still circling.

“Right,” Shiro confirms. “You’re ambidextrous. So prove it.”

Keith grunts his acknowledgement and rolls his shoulders, sizing Shiro up. So far so good. Shiro knows Keith has no issue taking criticism from him unless it’s tempered with positive feedback.

Keith circles for a beat longer, then makes his move. He darts in quick with an uppercut combo that Shiro dodges easily, then moves to strike upward with his right foot.

 _Taking the bait,_ Shiro thinks... right before Keith shifts his stance and staggers him with an explosive kick to the jaw. Shiro sees stars and almost drops to his knees.

Keith had been feinting. He’d struck Shiro with his _left_ foot.

“Jesus,” Shiro mutters, shaking his head to clear the haze of the blow. “Fucking- _yes,_ Keith, like that.”

Keith rolls his eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t exit his body through the top of his skull.

“Seriously,” Shiro insists, forgetting himself for a moment. He’s well and truly stunned after the force of that kick. “I didn’t see that coming-”

 _“Okay,”_ Keith growls. “I get it, Shiro, I need to mix it up. Right? Are we good? Can we fight?”

Shiro sighs, sobered by Keith’s familiar prickly response. _Goddamn porcupine,_ he thinks fleetingly.

“Keith, I just-”

 _“Shiro.”_ Keith’s voice takes on an even sharper edge. He’s all agitated energy already, frustrated instead of focused. "If I end up actually _using_ my combat training someday, I'm pretty sure my opponents won't be stopping the fight to give me tips. Can't I just-" He pauses, flexes and unflexes his fingers. He tempers the anger in his voice. "Can't I just… practice?"

The last bit sounds like a plea, and Shiro almost gives in. But he gives in too often when it comes to Keith, and he knows it.

There's something wrong here, something Keith won't or _can't_ explain, and Shiro's been running in circles trying to get to the bottom of it. It's not doing either of them any good.

"No," Shiro tells him. "Not like this. Not if you can't hear me out. I can't help you improve if you can't take my feedback."

"I'm listening, Shiro, I _listened-"_

"No." Shiro shakes his head for emphasis. "The bad _and_ the good, Keith. You think I'm trying to flatter you or something? You actually think I'd coddle you like that?"

Keith's eyes go round. His shoulders drop an inch, like he's forgotten to focus on being a stubborn shithead.

"No, I-"

"Because I wouldn't. I haven't coddled you for a single second since you got here. You know why?"

"I-"

"Because I know you can be great. I know you can be _better_ than great-”

"Stop-"

"I know you can be the best pilot, the best _officer_ that's ever come through this place-"

"Shut up! _Shut the fuck up, Shiro!"_

Shiro shuts up. Keith's locked up from head to toe, tense and red-faced and looking absolutely murderous. It's shocking, really, the magnitude of his reaction- but not shocking enough to break Shiro out of his hard-won training. He's an officer. Keith's a senior cadet. They’re in public, and Shiro can't let conduct like this stand.

"Showers," he barks, all business. "Now."

Keith winces. He hesitates, looking lost for a moment, then turns on his heel and stalks off toward the locker room.

* * *

The promise of privacy in a shower stall is the only thing that keeps Keith from disobeying a direct order and sprinting back to his quarters. He keeps well ahead of Shiro and grabs his gym bag from the sidelines, then strides into the nearly-empty locker room without looking back.

The showers are empty, so he could choose one toward the back of the high-ceilinged room if he wanted to, but he'd rather disappear before Shiro catches up to him, so he steps into the second stall he finds and locks himself in.

He drops his bag and rests his forehead against the cool metal of the interior wall, indulging in a moment of self-deprecation so heavy his eyes start to sting.

 _Stupid,_ he thinks. _Useless. Giving him more reasons to give up on you. Making it so easy for him to walk away._

He squeezes his eyes shut. It's the last thing he wants, of course. Losing Shiro is unthinkable. And yet here he is, trying his hardest to make it happen.

_Ungrateful fucking brat._

But what choice does he have? He's tried to keep it together, tried to set his feelings aside and listen to what Shiro has to say… but he can't. It's impossible. Because every time Shiro tells him he's done well… every time Shiro's eyes light up, every time he flashes that blinding smile, every time his voice goes fond with genuine praise--

_(I know you can be great-)_

Every time Keith even _thinks_ about those sweet words he'd die to hear falling out of Shiro's mouth--

_(Fucking- yes, Keith-)_

Every time that happens, Keith’s body threatens to betray him.

He balls his hands into fists and braces them against the wall, painfully aware that his dick is rigid and leaking inside his Garrison-issue sweats.

"Keith."

Shiro's voice is real now. Not just a memory. He's standing right on the other side of the wall in the adjacent stall. Keith hadn't even heard his footsteps.

"Yeah," he acknowledges, his voice scratchy and small. _He can't see you,_ he tells himself. _He won't know. You're safe._

"Are you good?" Shiro asks.

"I'm good," Keith lies.

There's silence for a moment, then shuffling on the other side of the wall. Shiro getting undressed.

Keith swallows hard.

"I need to talk to you," Shiro says, with none of his earlier formality. "Can you let me do that?"

Keith breathes in slowly, then lifts his head from the wall and starts to undress.

"Yeah," he says.

_He can't see you. He won't know._

He strips down to his skin, ignores his painful hardon, and taps at the panel in the wall to get the shower going. He thinks about punishing himself further with a sixty-five degree shower- but no. He needs to focus on what Shiro has to say. He owes him that.

He sets the water to a comfortable temperature and steps under the spray.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Shiro says. The muffled timbre and proximity of his voice tell Keith that he’s standing under the adjacent showerhead, just a couple feet away. “And I’m guessing you’re not going to be able to explain it to me.”

Keith scowls at the floor as the water mats his hair to the back of his neck. Letting Shiro down hurts like a day-old bruise.

“It’s me,” he manages to say. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

 _I want you,_ his body groans.

He holds it in.

He’s been holding it all in, the _want,_ the _need,_ and it’s been exploding out of him as impatience and frustration and rage.

Praise makes him uncomfortable, regardless of who it’s coming from. He knows it’s perfunctory, knows he doesn’t deserve it. He’s lost his temper too many times. He’s thrown too many punches. He’s hurt people. He’s messy, volatile, _damaged._ And sure, it’s been a couple years since he’s done anything particularly shameful - he knows he’s improving, making progress, becoming _better_ \- but he hasn’t done enough. Not _nearly_ enough. He doesn’t need to hear about the baby steps he’s taken past being an utter fucking trainwreck. He needs to know how he’s still screwing up. He needs to know what he still has to fix.

He needs to work through his damage, piece by piece. Positive feedback won’t get him there. It only makes him feel dirty, lied to.

Except when it comes from Shiro.

Shiro doesn’t lie. Not to Keith, anyway. Keith can tell.

So when Shiro tells him that he’s done well - that he’s good, that he’s _better_ \- he has to confront the possibility that Shiro really believes it.

_He thinks I’m good._

_He thinks I’m better._

_He thinks I’m special._

Warmth blooms in Keith’s stomach like red ink in water.

His dick throbs and jumps, untouched, while Keith grits his teeth.

He’s in love with Shiro.

He’s a charity case, barely a blip on Shiro’s radar.

But Shiro is his whole world.

“What if we talk in here?” Shiro asks quietly. The water in the adjacent stall splashes in an uneven rhythm. Shiro is washing his hair. “We can debrief while we wash up. Would that take the pressure off?”

Keith’s cheeks burn with shame. Shiro is too good to him. So much better than he deserves.

“Okay,” he says. “We can try.”

He holds his hand under the shampoo dispenser and spreads the suds across his chest. Washing up sounds like a good idea.

“Good. That’s good, Keith. Just… don’t duck out on me, okay?”

Keith’s lower lip wobbles.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Okay. So… your technique. I know your opponents won’t know it by heart like I do. I get that. But that’s why sparring with me will make you better. If you can beat me, after all this time I’ve spent learning your moves, then you can beat _anyone._ And you want that, right? You want to beat me?”

“Yes,” Keith confirms, working shampoo into his hair. “I do.”

“And you will. You have more power and better coordination than any right-handed or left-handed person I’ve ever fought. I even trained with a classmate who was ambidextrous, and he didn’t have half your speed or accuracy. You work harder than he ever did.”

Keith listens, his eyes closed. He’s abandoned the soap and braced his hands flat against the wall to keep himself steady. His body is hot, burning up from the inside out. His cock aches as Shiro speaks.

“...And for the record,” Shiro says, “I’m not bullshitting you. It’s an analysis, Keith, and you have to take it that way. That kick was objectively gorgeous. Or… _okay,_ it was _objectively_ fast and accurate. It objectively almost knocked me on my ass. So… gorgeous. Flawless. Perfect.”

Keith bites his lower lip, letting the sharp points of his teeth sink in hard.

He wraps one hand around his cock.

It’ll help, he tells himself. He needs the release, needs to clear his head. He needs to listen like Shiro asked him to.

It’ll help.

He starts to stroke.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice is soft and kind. “Did you hear me?”

Shiro is naked in the stall next to him.

“Yes,” Keith murmurs, slipping his cockhead through his slick fist.

Shiro is right here. Shiro hasn’t abandoned him. Shiro thought his kick was perfect.

_Perfect._

“Good,” Shiro tells him. “You’re doing great, Keith. With your training, and… right now. I know this is hard. But it’s okay. You’re doing so well.”

Keith bites his lip harder to hold back a groan.

His body is singing with pleasure. He’s high on the sound of Shiro’s voice.

Shiro doesn’t lie. Shiro knows him.

Shiro believes that he is good.

 _“Thank you,”_ Keith whispers, pumping his cock with even strokes.

“...And you’ll do even better next time,” Shiro goes on. “You just need to vary your stance. Play both sides. Make sure I can’t see what’s coming next.”

Keith’s breathing starts to quicken. He gropes for the panel in the wall and ups the intensity of the shower, hoping the sound of the water will give him cover if he starts to lose control.

“...Like that kick?” Shiro says. “You could’ve taken me down, Keith…”

Keith rolls his neck and pumps at his shaft, breathing shallow breaths through his nose with his jaw clenched tight.

“...You could’ve had me on my back…”

Keith shudders, bucks his hips forward, squeezes his fingers over the head of his cock. He pictures Shiro like that- laid out on his back underneath him, bare from head to toe, his broad chest on display, his chin tilted high in anticipation. Keith has caught brief glimpses of Shiro’s naked body, enough to memorize the tapered slope of his waist and the thickness of his cock- so thick, even when he’s soft. This isn’t the first time Keith’s jerked off to the thought of him, but it’s the first time he’s ever done it with Shiro _right there,_ just inches away, talking him through it without even realizing that that’s what’s happening-

“...If we hadn’t stopped, I mean. And Keith… that was my fault, okay? I pushed you. I know I did. And I’m sorry it feels like that, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again. I just need you to hear me. To trust me. I will get you through this, okay? You just-- you have to get out of your own way. I’ll help you...”

Keith’s rocking his hips in earnest, fucking into his fist with as much force as he can risk. He’s close, embarrassingly close, bringing himself off while Shiro speaks, his dick throbbing dangerously every time Shiro says his name-

“...I know how bad you want this, Keith, and when you want something this bad… when you want to do something good, for all the right reasons… you _have_ to make it happen. You can’t let anything stop you. Not even yourself. You can do this, and I’ll be right here…”

Keith tenses, digging his fingertips into the wall, jerking his cock through his soap-slick fist-

“...because I want it just as bad,” Shiro says. “I do. You’re worth it, Keith. I promise you, you are…”

Keith drops his forehead against the wall as he comes. He shivers from the intensity, painting the tile in thick stripes of cum, working every last pull of sensation with his hand as Shiro’s voice echoes in his ears.

_Perfect._

_I’ll be right here._

_I promise._

“...Keith?”

Keith’s too dazed to respond, but only for a moment.

His head starts to clear.

His heartbeat starts to slow.

He lets his shoulders drop and his hands fall to his sides. He tips his chin up to let the water run over his head and down his back.

“I was listening,” he says. “I… thank you, Shiro.”

The shower in the adjacent stall switches off.

“Good,” Shiro says. “You did really good, Keith. Same time tomorrow?”

Keith nods absently, too blissed out to fully contemplate the notion.

“Yes.”

“Want to grab some dinner?”

Keith breathes out slowly through his nose.

“Yeah. You go. I’ll catch up.”

He stands underneath the running water, his mind still full of the sound of Shiro’s voice.


	2. So Proud of You

Shiro is up late that night, pretending to study the probe data the Garrison is using to plan their next manned mission to Mars. He's applied for the pilot's position, of course, but he doubts he'll be selected. He's competing with Katya Alexeyev, the Garrison's most experienced pilot, who navigated the last Mars mission and returned a little over a year prior. They'll almost certainly choose her again… but Shiro can dream.

He can daydream, too, and that's what he does instead of actually analyzing any of the text on his datapad. He's thinking about Keith- how he'd looked at the end of that training session, seething and vulnerable, like a cornered animal. Shiro knows Keith's rage. He knows it's only a symptom of what's actually wrong. He hopes it's a warning bell, signaling some kind of breakthrough. Talking in the showers is only a stopgap measure; it'll allow them to make some measure of progress in their training sessions, but it won't change the fact that Keith can't accept praise from Shiro and look him in the face at the same time.

Shiro can guess why that might be, and the train of thought is unsettling.

Keith doesn't think he deserves it. Even after two years at the top of his class, breaking records, earning the respect of peers and faculty alike. He's still punishing himself, still trying to make up for past mistakes, and as well as he's learned to mask it from the other officers, the pain of it lashes out of him when he's with Shiro.

This is about their relationship as much as it's about Keith's ability to take feedback. Shiro will need to focus on both of these things to help Keith move forward.

Today was a good first step… but he needs to figure out how to make sure Keith can look him in the eye, always, no matter what.

"Takashi?"

Adam wanders blearily from their bedroom to the living area, where Shiro is draped over most of their couch. "It's late. Are you coming to bed?"

Shiro nods.

"Soon."

Adam blinks and rubs at one of his eyes. He's not wearing his glasses, but he can see well enough to identify the datapad Shiro's holding.

"New intel?"

"No. Just going over the Mars data again."

Adam drops his hand to his side.

He's quiet for a moment.

Then he says, "You'd really go, huh? If they picked you? You'd really leave for the next four years?"

Shiro lowers the datapad and looks up at him. They've both been avoiding this conversation, and this is the worst possible time for it.

That's the issue though, Shiro thinks. There's no good time to talk about something that might end your relationship.

A year ago, when he'd applied for a survey mission close to the sun, Adam had become distant and irritable instead of showing support, and that had been the first time Shiro had considered that things might not work out between them. They'd basically grown up together here, as best friends and flight partners for years, and then, eventually, as lovers. When they were younger, it had seemed like their time as cadets would last forever- as if all their dreams and ambitions were part of some far off future. As if they had all the time in the world to spend together before any of it would actually materialize. Shiro and Adam had shared those dreams then- exploring the stars, discovering new worlds, making their mark on the universe.

But as they'd grown up, they'd also grown closer to each other, and as a result, Adam's priorities had started to shift. Shiro had thought they'd both made peace with the implications of his disease years ago, but he'd been wrong. When Adam had actually had to face the possibility of spending months or years apart, it had become clear that they wanted different things.

Adam wanted to spend Shiro's remaining time together…

And Shiro still wanted what he always had.

To explore the stars. To discover new worlds.

To make his mark on the universe.

Adam wanted what they had right now, and he was waiting for Shiro to grow, to change, to realize that that was all he wanted, too.

"I would go," Shiro said gently. "If it was my only shot… if if was my best chance at getting out there… I would go, Adam."

Adam takes a breath, and by the time he's let the air back out of his lungs, he looks weary. Sad.

Shiro knows what he hears every time they talk about this.

_This life we've built together isn't enough for me._

"Come to bed, then?"

Adam holds out his hand, and Shiro nods.

It’s heavy, this guilt. It’s a burden Shiro had never expected to have to bear.

Adam was supposed to be his love, his best friend, his partner in all things. Adam was supposed to understand him better than anyone else in the world.

They'd grown up together, they'd grown _so close…_ but they'd also grown apart.

Shiro switches off his datapad and stands up to accept Adam's outstretched hand.

They would delay the inevitable for one more night. They would do that together.

They would do it until they couldn't anymore… and then they would stop.

* * *

Keith wakes early the morning after The Incident in the showers, feeling clear-headed enough to try to process what he'd done.

He feels both guilt and shame. He's not sure he did anything explicitly wrong, but he strayed far enough into some ethical gray area that he feels like a jerk about it. Shiro had been trying to help him, giving him space to try to mend whatever damage was haunting him this time around, and Keith had repaid him by getting off to the sound of his voice.

He'd done something hidden, something selfish. Something Shiro would never do.

He'd loved it, too. It had felt incredible to let his guard down, to let himself feel what Shiro was trying to tell him. To imagine that Shiro believed the things he was saying, and to think maybe that meant… someday… Shiro might return some fraction of the love and affection Keith harbored for him.

Keith stares at his ceiling, trying to figure out how he can make up for the transgression, knowing it's one he's likely to repeat.

First and foremost, he wants to make it through a training session without taking his angst out on Shiro. He's been forced to confront the fact that part of this is about sex- specifically, hiding his attraction and the very real, very visceral response he experiences when Shiro starts to push his buttons.

He decides to start getting himself off right before they spar.

He'll have to make time for it, which means asking Shiro to meet him a few minutes later… but given how invested Shiro seems in helping him figure this out, he guesses Shiro will agree without comment.

He grabs his datapad from his night stand and taps out the message.

Shiro responds right away.

Shiro: Sure. I can make that work starting today. Let me know what else you need.

Keith sighs at the screen.

He needs Shiro to stop worrying about him.

He needs Shiro to see him as an equal instead of some hot-headed kid.

He needs to take care of Shiro like Shiro's always taken care of him.

He decides he can start by getting his hormones under control well enough to make it through a spar.

* * *

He makes his way through an astrophysics exam, a bout in the flight simulator, and three other classes before he's able to head back to his quarters to get ready to meet Shiro. He's given himself an extra twenty minutes, and he's going to make the most of it.

He's decided that giving himself a quick hand job isn't going to do the trick. His feelings for Shiro are tangled up with restless, overwhelming energy, so he needs to burn some of that off before he gets close to him again.

He strips down to his fitted, black briefs, sending a quick _thank you_ out to the universe that senior cadets are allowed to apply for single rooms.

He climbs onto his bed, tucks one of his extra pillows between his legs, and then lays down on his stomach.

He thinks about the sparring match he had with Shiro yesterday- about catching Shiro squarely in the jaw with his heel.

He thinks about the look of shock on Shiro's face, and how it had turned quickly to a look of pride. He focuses on Shiro's face like that- his eyes wide, his cheeks red, his fingertips touching the sore spot at his jawline.

His dark, tousled hair.

His heaving chest.

His mouth, open and smiling.

Keith starts rocking his hips, forcing his filling cock against the pillow.

He knows it's dangerous to hope, but he does it anyway.

He hopes that someday, he'll get the chance to tell Shiro how he feels. Shiro will listen, and when Keith's done talking, he'll look just like that: shocked and gorgeous and _proud._

Keith would kiss him then. He knows how. He's practiced.

He's practicing for other things now, rutting down against his pillow, arching his spine with every languid thrust as he pictures Shiro's face.

His voice, too- so low and honey-sweet. Commanding enough to keep Keith in line, then kind enough to soothe that sting. Shiro laughs while he talks to Keith sometimes, laughs right through his words, so casual and easy, as if they're friends, as if he trusts Keith with the truest version of himself. He doesn't laugh like that in mixed company. Keith imagines that it's only for him, and sometimes he thinks it's his favorite version of Shiro's voice… but that's not really true.

He's heard Shiro's voice do other things.

He's had Shiro pinned to a training mat, grunting with exertion, touching and _grabbing_ at his body with strong, broad hands.

He's heard Shiro gasp and groan while they wrestle for the upper hand- so close to his ear, to his neck, to his cheek, that he's had to fight off a shiver at the heat of his breath.

He's heard Shiro breathless and desperate, enough times that he can call the sound to memory with no effort at all.

_Fuck,_ Shiro's said to him, sprawled on his back on the mat. _Yes. Good. Like that._

Keith groans. He rolls his hips in a steady rhythm, tensing his stomach with every thrust, letting his arousal spread from the hilt of his dick to the tip, from the base of his spine to the nape of his neck.

He's never practiced _this_ with another person. He's not even sure he could.

He's not even sure he wants to, if that person isn't-

_"Shiro,"_ he groans, then bites at the fabric of his pillowcase. His hands are tight fists, his fingers tangled in his sheets. His cock is aching, weeping pre all over the inside of his briefs.

_You could've taken me down, Keith._

_You could've had me on my back._

Keith pictures it, pictures Shiro on his back, naked and waiting for him, his cock thick and heavy where it's resting on his inner thigh. He pictures himself kneeling between his legs, bending low to catch his gaze and touch his cheek… kissing his mouth, leaning into the heat of his body…

Pushing into the tight, waiting wetness of his hole-

Keith growls, biting at his pillowcase hard enough to puncture the material. He's fucking his pillow with quick snaps of his hips, rubbing himself off to the sound of Shiro's voice, and the smell of Shiro's sweat, and the heavy weight of Shiro's hands gripping his arms and hips and thighs-

_"Fuck-"_

He sits up on his knees, yanks his briefs down, and fists his cock hard and fast until he's coming all over the palm of his left hand.

It's a dizzy, bone-deep climax that practically blacks him out, which was exactly what he was hoping for.

He needs to feel this way here, alone in his room.

He needs to keep Shiro safe from this weakness he can't shake.

He needs to be stronger, better.

He needs to keep his love for Shiro locked inside this room when he leaves.

* * *

Keith feels calm and focused as he enters the gym to meet Shiro, and determined not to dwell on how he got that way. It's going to be a good spar, he thinks. He'll make Shiro proud. That's what matters.

He sees Shiro stretching in the center of one of the mats on the far side of the gym, slipping into some inverted yoga pose Keith can't remember the name of. Shiro's always talking about how he needs to improve his flexibility, as if he hasn't been literally wiping the floor with every cadet and officer in this place since he was fifteen.

Keith admires the lines of Shiro's body, but his head stays clear. This is a good sign.

He makes his way to Shiro's mat and drops his bag at the edge of it, then chooses a spot a few feet from Shiro's inverted form and slips into a series of his own stretches.

"Hey," Shiro acknowledges. "This time works better for you?"

"Yeah." Keith's on his back, bringing his right knee up to his chest. "Thanks."

This starting time puts them even further into the dinner hour, so the gym is even more empty than usual. They both prefer it that way. Neither of them likes eating in the mess hall when it's busiest, or fighting for a spot on one of the mats. It's just one more reason Keith looks forward to the four days a week he gets to spend this time with Shiro.

"Good," Shiro says. "That's good. So… um. I have good news and bad news."

Keith releases his right leg and starts stretching his left.

"Bad news first," he says.

"I didn't get picked for the Mars mission."

Keith grimaces at the ceiling. That stings.

"They're idiots," he says.

Shiro chuckles.

"Don't forget about the good news."

"Right. What's up?"

Shiro eases his lower half onto the floor so that he's flat on his back. His body and Keith's form parallel lines at the center of the mat.

"They offered me a lunar mission instead. Four months doing terraforming research."

Keith shoots upright to look at him.

"Shiro! That's amazing!"

Shiro sits up on his elbows. He's smiling, but Keith can't find any excitement in it.

That doesn't seem right.

"It's a big step forward," Shiro says. "It'll be the longest mission I've ever done. I'll have a small crew on the flight. I'll actually get to use my engineering degree. And… I'll get to pilot the new shuttle prototype. It's about to be approved."

Keith searches Shiro's face, his body posture, for the pride and excitement that would normally come with news like this. He doesn't find it.

"But… you're not happy?"

Shiro looks alarmed.

"What? Of course I am, I'm--" He pauses, clears his throat. "It's just… a lot to think about, I guess."

Keith nods. He doesn't push. There's obviously something bothering Shiro, and Keith knows he's more likely to get the whole story if he gives him time to process how he's feeling.

"Start thinking about the awards you'll win," Keith says. "And all the lunar junk you're gonna steal for me."

Shiro chuckles and sits fully upright.

"I won't need to. You'll get there yourself someday. And not as a tourist." He smiles a little more genuinely. "I'll bring you something, though. Just to keep you motivated."

Keith grins.

"You think I'll wash out as soon as you're not here to boss me around?"

"Absolutely. You're 100% hopeless."

Keith snorts.

"And you're 100% ego." He jumps to his feet and offers Shiro a hand. "C'mon, Commander. Let's fight."

Shiro feigns indignation, then accepts Keith's outstretched hand.

"Okay, _kiddo_. Defend yourself."

"You too, old timer."

Shiro grins dangerously, raises his fists, and strikes.

They spar. It goes well, much better than the day before. They start off energized by their banter, and Keith feels like he's keeping up more easily than usual. He even lands a knee to Shiro's stomach after feinting and changing up his stance, like Shiro had encouraged him to do yesterday.

"Good!" Shiro hollers. He's the only person Keith knows who looks happy after taking a hit. "I mean… uh. You tell me. I think you can do even better than that. How?"

"More power," Keith says right away. "I held back. Wasn't sure if it was going to land."

"Yes. Commit. It takes practice, but I know you can do it."

A familiar blush starts to creep up Keith's neck. He swallows.

"Shiro... uhm."

Shiro winces a little, like he's realized he's crossed a line. Keith hates that. He doesn't want Shiro tip-toeing around him, watching every word that comes out of his mouth.

"You- uh. You're right," Keith hurries to say. He rolls his shoulders, willing his body to calm. "I'll practice."

Shiro beams.

It's all worth it, just for that.

" _We'll_ practice," he says. "What else? Tell me what you did right."

Keith takes a breath, replaying the bout in his head.

"I switched stances," he says. "Tried to do it when you wouldn't suspect or notice. Like you told me."

"Yes. You did. You're looser in your left shoulder, too. Keep it up."

"I will." Keith raises his fists. That's about all he can take, judging by the tingling sensation that's crawling up his spine. "Ready?"

Shiro doesn't move right away. Keith tries not to notice, but Shiro's looking him over, appraising him… and it doesn't feel like the mutual sizing-up they often give each other during a fight.

Shiro's really _looking_ at him.

Keith clears his throat, well aware that he must be blushing from his cheeks to his chest by now. Shiro's pleased with him. Shiro's thinking about him. And if Keith thinks too hard about that-

"Yeah," Shiro mutters, almost solemnly. "I'm ready."

They nod. They circle each other. They slip back into the fight.

It feels different, though. Slower. Shiro seems less focused, which is a legitimate first, and it puts Keith off-balance too. Is it a test? Is Shiro trying to teach him something? Keith considers pulling his punches, because Shiro's reaction time is compromised-

But no. They'd just gone over it. He's supposed to bring power to all his hits. That must be what Shiro's looking for.

Keith rolls away from a kick, leaps to his feet, dodges a blow, switches his stance…

…and lands a full-power punch directly to the right side of Shiro's face.

Shiro yelps, staggers, drops to one knee.

Keith stares, his eyes wide in shock.

"Shiro?!" He was supposed to dodge, to deflect at least some of that impact. "Shit- _Shiro?_ Are you okay?"

Shiro blinks up at him, dazed.

He stretches his jaw, feeling along his face with the palm of his hand.

"...Ow," he mutters. He clears his throat. "I… yeah. I'm fine. Good one, Keith."

Keith kneels down next to him. He's never landed a punch on Shiro like that.

"Shiro…" He rests his hand on Shiro's shoulder. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard. You said-"

"I know. You did it just right, Keith. It was great."

Keith's face flames.

"But… you always dodge." Keith tilts his head, softens his voice. "Something's wrong. I can tell. You should be drunk on a rooftop somewhere, celebrating this mission assignment."

Shiro smiles unconvincingly.

"You think that's something I do? Get drunk on rooftops?" He tilts his head the same way, in the opposite direction. "I'd much rather be here."

It takes every ounce of Keith's will to keep himself from looking away.

"You can tell me," he says quietly. "If something's wrong. If something happened. I can listen, Shiro."

Shiro's hands fall into his lap. He looks… defeated.

Keith's never seen him look like this before.

"Adam doesn't want me to go on the lunar mission," Shiro says.

Keith scowls. He resists the urge to run straight to wherever Adam might be and knock his teeth out.

"Why?"

"It's… complicated. Don't judge him too harshly. He has good reasons."

Keith can't imagine what those might be. He likes Adam, though he's viscerally inclined to think he's not good enough for Shiro, mostly because no one ever could be. Keith is ready and willing to further downgrade his rating of their relationship if Adam is the one making Shiro feel like this.

"But you're unhappy," he says. "You should be so excited, Shiro. You should be so proud. He should be _making_ you feel proud. I just- I don't understand."

Shiro fixes him with that appraising look again.

"You're a good friend, Keith."

Keith blinks. It's not what he expects to hear. He's always wanted to believe that they really are friends, but Shiro's never actually said it before.

"You've worked so hard, Shiro. You deserve to feel good about this."

Shiro smiles. He still looks a little sad, but it's genuine.

"I think you're right," he says. "I think I forgot for a minute."

"Yeah. And you got punched in the face for it."

Shiro laughs. Keith's heart beats faster at the sound of it.

"Serves me right, huh? I have to be at my best to fight you these days."

Shiro moves to stand. He pulls Keith off the floor along with him.

He lets his hand rest gently on Keith's upper arm.

Keith suffers in silence, his skin prickling with pleasure where Shiro's touching him.

"Think we could call it quits for the night?" Shiro asks. "I could use some ice cream."

"Yeah. Of course."

Shiro nods toward the locker room.

"Quick shower? Then chocolate?"

"Yeah. Sure. Uh- lead the way."

Shiro lets go of him as he turns to head toward the locker room door, which is a small blessing. The gentle touch of his hand had almost been too much.

Keith grabs his bag from the edge of the mat and follows Shiro to the showers.

They choose side-by-side stalls again and undress in silence, which means Keith has plenty of time to work himself up into a mess of confusion before he's even stepped underneath the running water.

He made it through the spar. He'd been calmer, more focused, more in control than ever- and Shiro had noticed. Shiro had praised him.

And then Shiro had confided in him.

He had done so before, about the loss of his parents, which was one more thing that bound them together- one more thing that made Keith feel closer with Shiro than he'd ever felt with anyone before.

But Shiro had never talked to him about Adam. Not about the problems they were having, anyway. Not about something going wrong between them. Not about something so private, so secret.

Is it possible that Shiro feels close to Keith, too?

Just thinking about it makes Keith feel hot and prickly all over.

He sets the shower to a cool temperature and steps underneath it. Shiro's is already running, the water splashing to the floor in intermittent bursts. He must be washing up.

"Keith?"

Shiro speaks quietly. Keith might've missed it if Shiro hadn't been so close, right on the other side of the partition… and if he hadn't been listening intently for the sound of Shiro's voice.

"Yeah. I'm here, Shiro."

It's quiet for a moment, except for the sound of the running water. There's no one else in the locker room.

"You were impressive today," Shiro finally says. "Really, really impressive."

Keith rests his palms against the tile wall. He's been trying so hard to keep his feelings at bay, to stay present in the moment without getting caught up in everything he's wishing and hoping for.

Shiro makes that impossible.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

"I really mean it, Keith, I'm-- God, I'm so proud of you."

Keith shivers.

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the back of his right hand.

_He can't see you,_ he reminds himself. _He won't know._

"I'm proud of you too," he says.

Shiro's hum is quiet, almost private. Keith feels it in his chest.

"Not sure if I deserve that yet," Shiro says. "Wait till I get back from the lunar mission."

"No," Keith tells him. "You'll be great. You'll be the best there's ever been."

The pattern of the water falling around Shiro's feet changes. Is he working his fingers through his dark hair? Running his hands over his broad chest? Smoothing soap over his stomach, his thighs? Keith wants to know. He wants to _see._

"Only until you catch up with me," Shiro says.

Keith bites his lip, trying to hide a small but uncontrollable whimper.

He takes himself in hand and starts to stroke.


	3. The Man Keith Will Grow Up to Be

Shiro freezes. He'd been gearing up to tell Keith exactly how sure he is that they'll be equals one day, but then Keith made that sound, like-- like he was--

No.

He couldn't be.

Not in the showers, not while they were in the middle of a conversation.

He wouldn't… right?

"You'll probably break at least one more of my records before I get back," Shiro ventures. "Which one are you working on again?"

He hears Keith clear his throat.

There's a subtle sound of skin against skin- something slick, something almost… _lewd._

"Nose dive velocity," Keith says. He sounds breathless. "I'm… close."

 _Jesus,_ Shiro thinks.

Keith is jerking off in the stall next to him.

Shiro's mind goes fuzzy, like static on a screen.

Can he let this happen?

Is he supposed to say something? Do something?

Of course, plenty of guys jerk off after working out… he did it more times than he can count when he was a cadet, right here in these same showers, so he can't exactly fault Keith for working off a little excess energy...

But part of him knows this is more than that.

This is what he's been searching for all these weeks- the source of Keith's frustration with him. The catalyst for his anger.

Keith is getting off on the praise.

He's been trying not to show it when they're face to face, but Shiro's been pushing him, telling him to listen, making him prolong their training sessions, then keeping him in the showers afterward. Shiro hasn't been giving him the space or privacy he needs.

Shiro's been forcing him to confront something he's been trying to hide from.

Keith has no problem taking praise from anyone else.

He's been getting angry at _me,_ Shiro thinks. He's been lashing out at _me._

And now he's getting off… because of _me._

Shiro scrambles to fill the silence, to stall so he can process this.

"You'll have it in no time," he says. "And I'll win it back from you when I come home."

Keith makes a quiet humming sound.

"You can try," Keith counters.

Shiro finds himself smiling, despite the shock of his realization.

"And you'll win it right back from me," Shiro says.

He means it.

He hears Keith shift and sigh in the stall next to him. Water splashes against the tile.

Before he can stop himself, he's picturing the movement of Keith's hand: long, slender fingers touching and _squeezing,_ stroking slow with every twist of his wrist-

 _Jesus,_ Shiro thinks again. _Fuck._

This is not a thing he should be thinking about.

"If you tell me I can," Keith says, his voice low and wobbly, "I'll believe you."

Shiro braces one hand against the wall and begs the universe for guidance.

"You can," he tells Keith, though he's not sure what sort of permission he's granting anymore.

_Heaven help me._

He should've put a stop to this the second he realized what was going on. Instead, he's telling Keith to go right ahead.

He feels hot all over, despite the cool water that's raining down on him.

"I want to try," Keith murmurs. "I want to do my best, Shiro… for you."

Shiro closes his eyes. He couldn't ask for clearer confirmation of something he's suspected for a while.

Keith has feelings for him.

He tries to hide it behind teasing banter and an inhuman work ethic, but Shiro's finally forced it to the surface.

He has no idea what he's supposed to think or feel. Keith is _seventeen._ He's not even old enough to drink a legal _beer._

…But he's old enough to survive being orphaned, another part of Shiro says. Old enough to make it to the top of his class at one of the most prestigious schools in the world, without a single family member to support him or speak for him. Old enough to be the most talented pilot Shiro's ever met.

He's old enough to be Shiro's friend. Old enough to be focused and strong and brilliant…

 _Fuck,_ Shiro thinks. _Holy fucking hell._

"Keith," he manages, "you should always do your best. But… you're already enough. You know that, right?"

Shiro feels the weight of Keith's exhaled breath. He hears the splash and spray of water droplets, the sound of skin meeting soap-slick skin.

He shudders at the low, muffled, barely-there sound of Keith's voice, a sure sign that he's falling apart, just a few inches away-

Shiro taps frantically at the control panel to lower the temperature of his shower.

"So are you," Keith murmurs. "You're enough too, Shiro. Anyone who doesn't think so is out of their mind."

Shiro squeezes his eyes shut tight.

His mind is racing.

His dick is hard.

"Thank you," he whispers.

He stands under the cold spray of the shower until he's gone soft again.

* * *

Shiro doesn't sleep that night.

At first, he lays awake in bed, listening to Adam's soft snoring and wondering whether he can still call himself a good man.

Eventually he realizes being so close to Adam is only making his panic worse, so he gets out of bed and stretches out on the couch, hoping to quiet his nerves enough to see the things more clearly.

He never imagined he would find himself in a situation like this.

He's never had trouble reading his moral compass- not once, not ever. And if someone had told him a year ago that he might find himself in an ethically dubious situation with a cadet, he would've called them certifiably insane.

Yet here he is, thinking about how he'd very intentionally listened to his underage friend jerk off in the showers, and how he'd lost control of his cock in the process.

Something has changed, and it has everything to do with Keith.

Keith is not a kid anymore.

He's almost a man.

And Shiro's been working so hard to help him see his potential - to give him what he needs in order to grow and improve - that he's started to see Keith as the man he knows he's going to become, instead of the senior cadet he still is.

Keith's voice has deepened. His hair has grown long and effortlessly lovely. He's so much taller, so much broader than the unhappy kid Shiro coaxed to the Garrison, his body hard and strong from two years' worth of purposeful labor. He was brilliantly intelligent even back then, and now he's like nothing Shiro has ever seen. He's like a mainframe, taking in new information at a ridiculous speed, mainlining knowledge like electricity flowing into him. He would easily have his advanced degree finished by now if there were more hours in the day.

As it is, Shiro has to remind him to sleep sometimes.

It's an intimate thought. Shiro has found Keith asleep on his arm in the library or passed out in a chair in the lab or the workshop so many times, he's lost count. He's guided a tousled, bleary-eyed Keith back to his quarters with a firm hand on his back, and even tucked him into bed a couple of times when he was clearly running a fever and pretending not to be.

In those moments, and in so many others, Shiro is sure he never wanted anything from Keith but his friendship.

Can he say the same thing now?

Can he stop himself from picturing the officer, the pilot, the genius powerhouse of a grown man Keith will surely become?

Can he stop himself from noticing the sleekness of his hair, or the toned taper of his waist, or the depth and hue of his impossible indigo eyes?

Keith is beautiful. Shiro has always known this as an objective fact, but now it feels like something personal, like an assault on his good judgment that he doesn't know how to fight back against.

Does he need to?

Is it okay for him to think these things? To feel this way?

Is it okay for him to wonder what might happen when Keith graduates?

He glances at the door to his bedroom, the one he's been sharing with Adam for the past two years.

He knows it's not okay to be thinking about any of this when the man he's supposed to love is fast asleep in bed without him.

Would he be thinking about Keith like this if things with Adam felt more solid?

 _You're enough too,_ Keith had said. _Anyone who doesn't think so is out of their mind._

Shiro knows Keith feels that way with all his heart.

Will Adam ever feel that way too? Or will Shiro have to bear the guilt of leaving, of wanting _more,_ for as long as he and Adam stay together?

Another realization settles heavily onto his shoulders.

He doesn't want that.

He misses the early days of his relationship with Adam. He misses the friendship they used to have, the way they'd challenged and supported each other. He misses the way it had felt, knowing they could bring each other so much happiness, so much comfort.

He doesn't want the sadness that hangs between them now.

He doesn't want to spend his days worrying about how to divide up the remaining moments of his life.

He doesn't want to go on feeling like he's letting Adam down.

So he comes to a decision.

He will be excited about the lunar mission. He will be proud, just like Keith said he should be. He will give this assignment his all and hope that Adam can be excited and proud along with him. And then, when he comes home, he and Adam will talk. They will decide together. They will repair whatever is starting to break between them…

Or they will find a way to let each other go.

And as for Keith…

Shiro presses the heels of his hands to his closed eyes.

 _You'll be great,_ Keith had told him. _You'll be the best there's ever been._

It was exactly what Shiro needed to hear.

It was exactly how he wanted to feel.

He touches gently over the darkening bruise on his cheek where Keith had struck him.

He swallows hard around a lump in his throat, wondering if he's already in love with the man Keith will grow up to be.

_Can I still call myself a good man?_

Shiro doesn't know.

* * *

Keith doesn't see Shiro as often as he'd like in the two weeks leading up to the lunar launch, but when they do get a chance to spar or grab a meal together, Shiro seems like his old self. He's energized and upbeat. He rambles about the scope of his role on the research team and the specs of the new shuttle. He even takes Keith to see it in the Garrison hangar.

It's sleek and shiny and brand new. It's _sexy._ Keith's never wanted to fly something more in his whole life. Shiro looks at him like he knows this.

"I'd bring you up in it if I could," he says. "It'll be cleared for cadet training after this first mission."

"I can wait," Keith tells him. "This will be worth waiting for."

Shiro beams at him.

"You're learning to be patient."

Keith jostles him with an elbow.

"I learned from the best." He narrows his eyes. "I do listen when you talk, you know."

"Yeah. I'm starting to think you really do."

They spar that night, and they both leave the mat with new bruises to prove it. Their bouts are fast-paced, both of them quick on their feet and throwing heavy blows. Shiro knocks Keith down with a kick to the chest, then tries to wrestle him flat, but Keith is focused enough to work his way out of it.

Just barely.

He got off before coming to the gym, but it's still not easy, writhing on the ground under Shiro's weight.

It's not easy feeling the heat of him, watching sweat bead up at his temples. Keith knows it's his fault, knows how hard Shiro has to work these days to win against him.

He likes knowing that, and he thinks Shiro likes it, too.

"Goddamn," Shiro mutters, scrambling to his feet after Keith slips out of his hold. He goes for another tackle- but Keith's ready for that.

He ducks low and kicks Shiro's legs out from under him.

Shiro goes down hard onto his palms, laughing all the way.

"Goddamn!" He rolls into a sitting position, still chuckling. He pats the mat next to him, conceding the bout and inviting Keith to join him.

They lay down on their backs to stare at the night sky through the glass ceiling, happy and breathing hard.

"I'm calling that a win for you," Shiro says. "That was fucking brilliant."

Keith disguises his shaky breath underneath the heavy panting he's already doing.

The last time they sparred, he’d made it to the showers before he let himself get hard. He can do that again. He can do it for Shiro.

"Ditto," he says. "I'll be one big bruise tomorrow."

"Worth it?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Shiro does something he's never done before.

He reaches over, covers Keith's hand with his own, and squeezes.

Then he lets go.

It's all over before Keith can convince himself it's actually happened.

"Decent view," Shiro says. "I bet we could catch the Milky Way from the cliffs though."

Keith looks over at him in a daze.

"Now? Isn't it kind of late? I mean… don't you have a million things to do tomorrow?"

Shiro shrugs. His eyes are still on the sky.

"I'm up for it if you are. I mean… just in case we don't get another chance before the launch, you know?"

Keith does know.

But he had no idea Shiro felt the same way.

"Let's go then," he says.

* * *

They speed through the desert, matching each other's pace. They ride to the cliffs and then abandon their bikes to lay down on their backs and take in the view.

The Milky Way shimmers clear and bright above their heads. The moon is new, gifting them the clearest view of the heavens they could hope for.

Keith imagines Shiro walking on the surface of it, looking back at him across the emptiness of space.

"Maybe we'll see this view from another planet someday," Shiro says. "Together, I mean."

Keith doesn't look at him. He keeps looking at the stars.

He doesn't think it's safe to hope for that… but he starts to anyway.

"You'll probably be exploring some other solar system by the time I'm old enough," Keith says.

"Then you can meet me there," Shiro answers.

Keith feels dizzy.

He sits up to take a sip of water, and when he lays back down, he lets his shoulder touch against Shiro's upper arm.

Shiro doesn't move away.

* * *

Later, when Keith is alone in his bed, he thinks about what it would be like to kiss Shiro on those cliffs under the stars, or on some distant world, underneath some new and different sky.

He can't help but think that someday, Shiro might let him.

He thinks about Shiro's hands grasping his shoulder and his hip, trying desperately to pin him to the ground.

He touches himself, remembering the weight of Shiro's body bearing down on him, watching distant stars twinkle behind his closed eyelids.

He comes in the dark with Shiro's name on his lips.


	4. Violet Fire

Shiro passes his final physical with flying colors, though his scans show a miniscule increase in the deterioration of the muscles in his right arm- a symptom of the disease that will, in all likelihood, eventually take his life.

These symptoms are still treatable, though. Shiro receives a round of gene therapy and responds well. The chief medical officer tells him they'll repeat his tests and scans as soon as he returns from the moon. It'll give them good comparison data. He's in excellent health otherwise and was experiencing no physiological symptoms, even prior to the gene therapy. He's cleared for launch.

He and Adam argue about it that night. Adam thinks he should stay, that he should ask the medical staff to track his symptoms here for a while before he takes on another assignment.

Shiro can't even fathom making that kind of choice. Any sign that his disease is progressing only drives him to sprint headlong toward his goal of piloting a major mission.

He tries to reassure Adam, to tell him that the medical team would never clear him unless he was fit. He's healthy. He has plenty of time left. He'll be so excited to come home and have Adam here waiting for him.

Adam looks anxious and pained.

"If you'll really miss me that much," he says, "you could just stay here with me."

Shiro doesn't know what to say to that.

He holds Adam close that night, wondering how many more times they'll sleep in this bed together.

He's always known that his disease was the only thing that could ever break them apart.

He never imagined they would push each other away long before it claimed his life.

* * *

Keith is allowed into the staging area where Shiro and his crew are preparing to board the shuttle for launch. Their suits are made of a shimmering gray material that makes Keith think of the tail of a comet. Shiro is tall and proud, issuing gentle orders to his team, showing grace and patience to the Garrison officers who are testing the features of his suit for one final time.

He was born for this, Keith knows. It's never been more clear than it is right now. It's in the curve of his smile, and the proud tilt of his chin, and the confident set of his shoulders. Shiro is greatness personified.

He's everything Keith wants to be.

He's everything Keith loves in this world.

Adam decides he should say goodbye early on. Keith can see that he's restless, anxious, and he'll be glad to see Adam go. The room is full of light and excitement. Adam is the only dark spot.

Adam kisses Shiro softly, solemnly, and tells him to be safe and hurry back. Keith wants to scream.

_Don't you know what he needs to hear? Don't you know him at all?_

He tries to smile at Adam as he passes, but Adam barely manages a small wave in his direction, like he hasn't even fully registered Keith's presence in the half hour they've both been in this room.

Keith doesn't let it bother him, though, because when he looks at Shiro again, he finds him smiling back at him with all the intensity of a newborn star.

Keith goes to him.

Shiro shrugs off the officer that's testing his holographic display and pulls Keith into a crushing hug.

Keith feels Shiro's nose in his hair above his ear.

He lets himself press his forehead to the side of Shiro's neck.

"You can watch on the tarmac with everyone else," Shiro says quietly. "Or you can sneak up to the roof. Where we've been before. You remember how?"

Keith nods. His heartbeat pounds.

"Good," Shiro tells him. "I might be able to see you from the shuttle."

Keith can't help it; he nudges his nose against the underside of Shiro's chin.

"You're like Perseus," he says. "Off on some great adventure."

 _Brave,_ he means. _Strong. Beautiful._

Shiro's hand rests heavy around the back of his head.

"Then you'll be Prometheus," Shiro says. "Bringing fire everywhere you go."

Keith's body wants to give out, to go lax in Shiro's arms- but he doesn't let himself do that. He holds onto Shiro as tight as he can.

"Just… try not to burn the Garrison down while I'm gone," Shiro adds.

Keith hums a quiet laugh.

He feels brave with Shiro holding him so tight.

He moves one hand to the back of Shiro's neck. He touches his warm, smooth skin and the fuzzy softness of his close-cropped hair.

Shiro lets out a soft exhale. Keith thinks it might be his fault.

"I'll be good," he tells Shiro. "I'll make you proud."

"Oh, Keith…" Shiro's voice is just a whisper. He moves his fingertips, touching Keith's hair. "I've been proud of you since the day you got here."

He lets Keith go and holds him at arm's length.

"Go," he says. "Give yourself extra time. You can't get caught."

"I won't," Keith says. "I promise."

He takes in Shiro's expression for one moment more- his steel-gray eyes, his smiling mouth, his proud chin tilted high.

Then he turns and hurries for the door.

He finds the nearest exit; moving through the whole building will take too long. He shoulders through the double doors, jogs to the sidewalk, and starts to run. He doesn't care that he's in uniform, or that he's heading in the opposite direction of the launch. He doesn't care what anyone else might think. He only cares about showing up for Shiro.

He runs until he reaches the door closest to the engineering lab, then makes his way back inside. There's a maintenance corridor behind the lab with several supply closets along one wall, and inside one of those is a doorway to the roof, which is usually locked. The handful of times Shiro brought Keith here in the past, he used his key card to swipe them in.

That won't be necessary this time, though. Keith finds the door open just a sliver, with Shiro's key card stuck inside the crack to hold it that way.

Keith is flooded with emotion.

_He left this here for me._

He grabs the card and heads for the roof.

He can take his time now; anyone who might've caught him is already at the tarmac, getting ready to watch the launch. He stops in the center of the roof to look up at the clear morning sky and take in a lungful of air, and then he runs to the edge to see the shuttle in the distance.

To get as close to Shiro as he can.

He tries to stand as tall and proud as Shiro would want him to, hoping it'll help Shiro find him here.

Two minutes later, his portable datapad vibrates in his pocket.

He checks the screen and grins.

It's a message from Shiro.

 _Be careful up there,_ it says.

A photo follows: Shiro in his full pilot's gear, smiling in the cockpit of the shuttle.

Keith locks the screen so he can trace the curve of Shiro's mouth with his fingertip. Shiro can see him. Shiro knows he's here.

He types a message back:

_I'll keep the fire going for you._

He deliberates for a second, then snaps a selfie and examines it closely. His cheeks are flushed from running, his hair a little messy from the breeze. He looks happy and strong. He sends it to Shiro.

 _In case you need a friend up there,_ he writes.

 _I do,_ Shiro answers. _Thank you, Keith._

It's the last message that comes through.

Keith stands tall and waits for the ignition sequence. An officer's voice booms loud enough to reach every corner of the Garrison campus, announcing the imminent countdown.

Keith speaks it aloud.

"Ten, nine…"

He squeezes Shiro's key card tight in one hand.

"Six five…"

He thinks of Shiro's hand cradling the back of his head, his fingertips touching through his hair.

"Two, one…"

He lifts his chin high as the shuttle surges off the launchpad and tears into the sky.

He stays there, watching, long after the shuttle has disappeared from view.

* * *

The next day, Keith beats Shiro’s nose dive velocity record in the simulator. He requests permission to attempt the stunt in a jet, and the request is approved.

He observes every safety protocol to the letter. He flies high over the desert, picking out every path he and Shiro have ever traveled together.

He looks up toward the sky, then executes a perfect nose dive, throwing himself back toward the Earth with no fear at all.

He beats Shiro’s record for maximum velocity by 1.06 kilometers per hour.

He sends Shiro the video footage and the flight control report.

Shiro sends him a text message via long-range transmission the next day.

 _Don’t get too comfortable,_ he says. _I’ll be back before you know it._

 _No rush,_ Keith answers. _I have plenty more records to break._

* * *

Shiro throws himself into his work at the Garrison’s Lunar Base. While the small colony of research scientists is thriving within their artificial habitat, they’re having trouble sustaining the prototype gardens and forests they’ve been attempting to grow in self-contained bio-units. Sam Holt thinks the excess cosmic rays that penetrate the moon’s feeble atmosphere are affecting the equipment in unforeseen ways. Shiro’s job is to work with him in analyzing the data and trialing updates to the equipment to help stabilize the growth of the plant life.

Shiro loves every second of it. He works best in the atrium of the base, where the transparent ceiling showcases a view of open space, or of the Earth itself, if he can get there at the right time during their orbital cycle. It’s a welcome reminder that he’s made it, that he’s really here- that he’s escaped the gravity of every doctor and instructor and superior officer who’s ever tried to hold him back.

Earth can’t hold him - nothing can - and he’s never felt more free.

Adam doesn’t request airtime to talk face to face. Their text exchanges are brief.

Shiro misses the Adam he’d fallen in love with years ago, but he doesn’t miss the relationship they have now.

He gets a line or two of text from Keith each day, and he responds as soon as he's able. He takes an excessive number of photos, but he's not allowed to send any of them to anyone back home, so he describes as much as he can without violating Garrison policy. Keith's still a cadet, he doesn't have clearance.

It seems silly to Shiro, in light of how much Keith has grown. He's sharper, more knowledgeable, and more dedicated than half the people on this base. He could probably help Shiro solve their equipment issues in half the time if he were here.

Shiro wants to tell him so… but he doesn't. Part of him knows that would be crossing some kind of line, and while he knows he's done that already, he's trying not to let a lapse in judgement become something more.

He's trying… but it's difficult.

Keith feels… present. Like Shiro brought a piece of him here somehow. Keith's messages bring a smile to his face, so much so that he finds himself waiting for them to come through each day. Keith makes him miss home without making him feel guilty about being gone, and it's something he needed so badly, he can hardly contain his gratitude.

Does that mean Keith is someone he needs?

Shiro finds himself looking back at that last photo Keith sent much more often than he should, wishing that Keith could send more. He's so used to seeing him now, to finding him around every corner of the Garrison. Some nights he expects Keith to come knocking on his door after dinner to ask for help with his organic chemistry homework, only to realize that Keith isn't here. He's back on Earth, a space flight away. Unreachable.

He looks at Keith's photo for a long time on nights like that.

He gets video footage of Keith doing stunt flights. Keith crushed one of his records within the first week he was gone, and it almost hurt, being so proud without being able to tell Keith so in person.

He watches each video every night until he gets a new one, and two months into his tenure at the Lunar Base, Keith breaks another one of his records.

Shiro has another lapse in judgement that night.

He watches the external flight control footage as soon as he gets it, but he saves Keith's cockpit footage for later that night, when he's alone in his quarters.

He undresses down to his briefs and gets in bed, just like he does every night. He adjusts his pillows so that he's sitting upright against the wall, then switches on his datapad.

He sets Keith's cockpit footage to play.

"Okay, hotshot." Keith's talking directly to him, looking right into the camera. He's already closed inside the cockpit of his jet, but the desert sunlight streams unfiltered through the transparent windshield, making Keith's eyes light up like violet fire. "I kicked your ass all the way to Jupiter in the simulator. Ready to see if I can pull off the real thing?"

Shiro chuckles aloud. He never gets sick of Keith's trash talking. It's a sign of far he's come, of how much his confidence has grown.

Keith is the only person in the world Shiro doesn't mind losing to.

Shiro watches Keith put on his helmet, then mentally goes through the launch sequence checklist with him, and before long, they're speeding down the runway together and soaring up into the sky.

That's how it feels, anyway. Shiro's stomach swoops and everything.

He doesn't quite realize it's not because of the view in the periphery, but because he's watching Keith bask in the exhilaration of flight.

"Nice day, huh?" Keith asks the question as if they're talking to each other in real time. "There's supposed to be a killer sunset tonight, too. I'll skip it, though. Can't get kicked out before you come home to steal your records back." Keith's gaze flickers to the camera. "We'll catch a sunset when you're back, yeah? Or… maybe we should watch the sun come up instead. We've never done that before."

Shiro pauses the video. He's feeling hot, which makes no sense, because he's practically naked and the Lunar Base is notoriously frigid.

He's feeling hot because Keith just suggested that they should watch the sun come up together.

Was he imagining it, or did it sound like Keith meant they should spend the night together first? Obviously, Keith had said no such thing, which meant that thought might've made its way into Shiro's mind all on its own.

 _Shit,_ he thinks. He looks at the image of Keith's face on the screen. His eyes are impossibly bright, his smile sharp and dangerous like it only gets when he's flying or fighting. His hair is woven back from his face in a messy French braid.

Shiro wants to pull the elastic free and unwind it with his fingers.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks. _Oh, fuck._

He shifts his hips a little.

His briefs feel too tight.

Is he really getting hard, thinking about his best friend flying a jet?

He chews his lower lip and presses play.

Keith points out some of their favorite landmarks. He talks some more about the two of them watching the sunrise together, weighing the benefit of different vantage points.

Then his expression goes sharp and serious. He's about to attempt the stunt- a series of rolls in free-fall that would have most expert pilots losing their lunch all over the cockpit. Keith will break Shiro's record by adding one rotation, he explains, and even if Shiro wasn't already aware of the outcome, he would have no doubt Keith could pull it off.

He watches Keith climb higher and higher, past wisps of floating cloud.

He watches Keith's face become a mask of determination and thinks- _He's beautiful like this._

He slides one hand down to palm over the hard mound of his dick.

He forgets that he shouldn't.

It's just like any other night that he might get himself off before bed.

"I can do this," Keith promises. "This is for you, Shiro."

Keith grits his teeth and growls as he tips the plane into free fall, and Shiro shudders in response.

Shiro has heard Keith make some quiet, half-hidden version of that sound before when they've flown together, but he's never heard the real thing. He's never seen Keith so uninhibited and free.

He squeezes his rigid cock through his briefs.

The Earth and sky whirl in the background as Keith tilts and spins the jet, but Shiro only sees his face- the set of his jaw, the angle of his brow, the glint in his gemstone eyes. Keith's growl changes to a whoop of exhilaration, and then Keith is laughing, spinning impossibly fast as he plummets toward the ground, his expression so triumphant and proud-

"Shiro!" he cries. "Fucking- YES!"

Shiro jabs at the screen to set the video to repeat, tosses the datapad onto the bed next to him, and shoves his briefs down from his hips.

He wraps his fingers around his cock and finds himself slick with pre-

"Fuck," he mutters.

He's sensitive to the touch, already throbbing heavily as he works his hand up and down his shaft. He's more worked up then he's been in… he can't even remember how long.

"Okay, hotshot."

The video has started over again. Keith's voice surrounds him, touches him. It's like something physical, like someone's hands running over his body.

Shiro grabs a handful of his own chest.

He thumbs over his nipple until it hardens up, until the feeling shoots through him as a jolt of pleasure-

"Ah-!"

He gasps, shocked. He's sensitive all over. He tweaks and rubs his nipple between two fingers and pumps his dick at the same time, slowly, just to see how it'll feel- and he finds himself arching his back and groaning loud enough to fill the small space of his quarters. He glances down at the tablet and finds Keith talking to him, just like he always does, as if he were right here in this room-

_(Maybe we should watch the sun come up instead.)_

Shiro lets his hand glide up and over the head of his cock.

_(We've never done that before.)_

He twists his wrist and _squeezes,_ slicking pre down his shaft.

He strokes himself into a steady rhythm, working his dick while Keith talks about the cliffs where they'd practiced rolling the hoverbikes in a midair dive-

He thumbs over and over his nipple while Keith talks about the sunrise painting the mountains in gold- about waiting for Shiro to come home so they can see it together-

Shiro squeezes his eyes shut and pictures it: the two of them laying on a blanket at the top of the cliffs, side by side in the pre-dawn stillness.

Looking in Keith's eyes, touching his cheek, touching his hair… unweaving his braid until it falls loose and glossy around his face…

Pulling him close, kissing his sweet, open mouth-

_(I can do this.)_

Tasting his tongue, running a hand down the curve of his spine-

_(This is for you, Shiro.)_

Shiro _bucks._ His hips roll up again and again until he's fucking into his fist, running his tongue over the swell of his bottom lip, digging his heels into the mattress as his body starts to tense. He hears Keith's determined growl and answers with one of his own, kneading his pec and tweaking his nipple, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to his aching dick-

_(Shiro!)_

He opens his eyes, answering Keith's call, and watches him whoop and tumble through the open air-

Watches his mouth open wide in triumph and his eyes lock onto the camera-

Shiro's climax hits him so hard, he cries aloud. His eyes prickle with tears and his heels dig into the bed and he shakes, coating his chest in thick ribbons of cum.

He closes his eyes at some point, riding the overwhelming wave of heated pleasure…

But Keith still burns bright inside his mind.


	5. The Night is Yours

Keith rubs his eyes from his seat at the back of his Linear Algebra class. He's bored, not because he doesn't like the subject, but because he prefers to learn the content on his own, and he's already mastered what the instructor is reviewing.

He's tired, too. He's been putting in extra hours in the simulator to chip away at Shiro's records, which has made for some later-than-usual nights. It's been worth it, though. He could tell Shiro was impressed by the two stunts he already mastered. He's hoping he can pull off one more within the next two weeks, before Shiro comes home from the Lunar Base.

He might postpone his practice until tomorrow, though. He needs a good night's sleep.

He's happy when the bell finally rings, signaling the lunch hour. Food and coffee. Keith needs these things.

He follows his classmates out into the hallway… and finds Shiro there, leaning against the right hand wall with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing a smug smile.

Keith stares for a second, wondering if he actually fell asleep in class and dreamed Shiro up.

"...Shiro?"

The man in question pushes off the wall and scoops Keith up in a close hug.

"Hey," he says. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry. I thought it would be a good surprise."

Keith closes his eyes and sinks into the embrace.

"It is. Wow, you're really here… I thought maybe I was dreaming."

Shiro chuckles.

"Why? You been dreaming about me lately?"

He pulls away before Keith can think of an answer to that.

"Grab lunch with me?" Shiro asks. "I'll tell you why I'm back early."

Keith nods. He'd prefer to keep Shiro within arm's reach for as long as he gets to have him home.

They swing by the mess hall to grab drinks and sandwiches, then retreat to one of their favorite private spots: the indoor garden at the center of the library. They choose two comfortable chairs near the circular fountain and dig into their lunch in a companionable silence. Keith eats fast, partly because he's starving, and partly because he's dying to know what could've brought Shiro back two weeks early from a major assignment.

He finishes his sandwich and moves on to his coffee, sipping quietly and trying not to stare while Shiro eats. It's difficult. He worked hard to make sure Shiro knew he would be fine on his own, but he missed him deeply. He missed him every day, every minute, and it's unsettling, speculating about what could've brought him back prematurely.

"It's okay," Shiro says gently, tidying up the remains of his sandwich. "I'm alright, Keith. It's nothing to worry about."

Keith grimaces.

"Sorry. I think I'm a little tired today."

Shiro nods.

"I think you push yourself too hard when I'm not around."

"Maybe. I just don't want to mess things up again."

Shiro reaches for him. His fingertips rest on Keith's shoulder.

"You won't," he says. "You have to learn to trust yourself. You know I trust you, right?"

Keith tilts his head.

Something feels different.

The tone of Shiro's voice, the candor of his words.

Something has shifted.

"You do?"

"Of course I do. I wouldn't spend this much time around someone I didn't trust." Shiro pulls his hand away. He sits up straighter. He looks even more serious. "Keith… I have to tell you… I might be leaving again soon."

Keith blinks.

"Another mission?"

"Yeah. Time sensitive. They pulled Dr. Holt back too, and he wants me to pilot for him. It's not set in stone yet, but I just wanted you to know."

Keith nods.

"That sounds… important. Classified?"

"Yeah." Shiro looks apologetic. "Sorry. I would tell you if I could. I really mean that, Keith. I'd even bring you with me, if-" He stops. His cheeks turn pink. "I mean- I just meant that- I'll be glad to have you on my team. When you're ready."

Keith feels dizzy.

He takes a risk.

He rests his hand on Shiro's forearm.

"I want that too," he says.

Shiro nods. He doesn't pull away.

"Soon," he says. "But not as soon as I'd like. If I get this assignment… I'll be gone a while, Keith. It could be a couple years."

Keith's eyes go wide. He squeezes Shiro's arm.

"Years?"

"I know. I know it sounds like a long time. But you'll be fine, Keith. You have everything you need here. It'll go by quick, and then I'll be back. It'll all be okay."

Keith takes a breath, scolding himself for his initial reaction. This is exactly what Shiro has been working for. This is his chance. Keith needs to be there for him, to celebrate with him.

Keith needs to be willing to let him go.

"I know," he says. "You're right. I was just surprised. But- this is huge, Shiro. It's amazing."

Shiro covers Keith's hand with his own.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. You'll be great. I'm so happy for you."

Shiro smiles.

"Don't break out the champagne yet. I'll let you know when they make a decision."

Shiro's pocket vibrates. He lets go of Keith's hand and fishes for his datapad.

"Sorry. I have to get ready for another physical. I'll be tied up for a while… maybe swing by my office after the rest of your classes? I might have news for you then."

"Sure. Yeah. No problem."

Shiro stands. He brings the remnants of their lunch to the nearest bin, then offers Keith a hand up.

He doesn't let go right away. He squeezes Keith's fingers, then puts a hand on his back.

"Walk with me?"

As if Keith would ever say no to him.

As if Keith wouldn't follow him to the furthest reaches of the galaxy.

* * *

Keith daydreams through his last three classes of the day. Shiro had felt so different to him today. Softer, somehow. More familiar.

Of course, Shiro might just be worried about leaving him here on his own for so long…

Or it might be something more than that.

Keith dwells on all the things Shiro had said to him.

_I'd even bring you with me._

He dwells on the way they had touched.

He thinks of all the things he would say to Shiro if he had nothing to lose… then promptly realizes that Shiro might disappear from his life for the next two years.

Is this the best chance he'll ever get to tell Shiro how he feels? Who knows what things will be like between them after so much time apart. Keith can't even count on maintaining the friendship they have now.

He knows they can't be together now anyway, he knows that Shiro would never risk his career on an underage cadet… but Keith could still tell him what he hopes for. He could still tell Shiro that what he feels is real and strong.

He could tell Shiro that he'll be here, waiting...

But no. He wills the notion away before it can take hold.

He's too young. He'd look like some lovesick kid with a paper valentine.

Shiro is a giant. A titan. A wonder.

Keith has nothing to offer him.

 _Not yet,_ he tells himself. _Maybe someday._

* * *

Keith manages to stay awake until the last bell of the day rings, then walks alone to the corridor where the Garrison officers and instructors have their offices. He finds Shiro's office empty and dark, but he recognizes Shiro's voice down the hall, coming from one of the executive offices designated for high-ranking officials.

Shiro sounds agitated. His voice is raised. Keith has never heard him sound like that in public before.

He wanders closer as quietly as he can and pauses just outside the door to listen in on the conversation.

He hears a woman's voice, one he recognizes but can't quite place. She's talking about the mission, about _Kerberos._

She's saying she can't let Shiro go, because he's _sick._

Keith's whole world spins, as if he's plummeting, whirling in a jet, but he's not ready for it. He could never be ready to hear something like that. He feels like he might vomit.

He hears Dr. Holt defending Shiro, insisting that they go on the mission together…

And that's all he can stand to listen to.

He slips away. His feet carry him to his quarters.

He sits on the edge of his bed and balls handfuls of his blankets up in his fists until the aching in his fingers dulls the nausea.

Part of him knew.

He's seen the cuffs Shiro wears on his right wrist. He's asked about them more than once, and Shiro's been evasive, uncomfortable. Keith told himself Shiro must be dealing with some old injury, or maybe a recurring one, because of how hard he trains.

But deep down, he knew something was wrong.

Shiro doesn't lie to him. He tells him the truth whenever he can.

He tells Keith the truth, except about this.

Keith scowls at the floor. He was young when he first came here, he knows that… but he isn't anymore. Shiro could've told him.

Shiro _should've_ told him.

Anger and hurt and worry mingle until Keith can't separate them anymore.

He leaves his quarters to search for Shiro.

* * *

Keith toys with his mechanic's multitool, pretending to examine the fuel intake mechanism inside the belly of Shiro's hoverbike- but he's really just stealing glances at Shiro, who's busy tuning up the engine. Shiro has his jacket open and his sleeves rolled up, leaving the cuff on his right wrist on full display.

Keith is stewing in guilt for losing his temper. It still stings that Shiro waited so long to tell him about his disease, but now that the shock is wearing off, Keith knows he shouldn't be wasting their time together feeling bitter and angry. Now more than ever, he has to make the most of every minute they have left.

"Still upset with me?" Shiro asks the question without looking up.

"No," Keith tells him. "I'm not. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You were right. I should've told you." Shiro wipes at the sweat on his brow with his left forearm, still tinkering inside the engine. "I was being selfish, I think. It's really hard for me to see you hurt."

Keith's cheeks heat up at the admission.

He hadn't thought of it that way.

"Shiro…" He doesn't want to ask the question, but he feels like he has to. "Are you dying?"

Shiro does look at him then. He puts down his multitool and braces his hands on the hood of the bike.

"Not for a long time," he says. "But I'll get… weaker. Sicker. I won't be able to do the things I do now."

"There's no cure?"

"Not yet." Shiro looks up at the sky. "Maybe it's out there somewhere. Maybe I can find it."

Keith wants to cry, but he doesn't.

"I bet you will," he says.

Shiro moves close to him and takes a knee at his side.

"I wanted to tell you when I knew we could spend plenty of time together. I didn't want you to feel like I was running out on you right after you found out."

Keith shakes his head.

"I never feel like that. I'm never going to try to hold you back, Shiro. I'm never going to stand in your way."

Shiro does something he's never done before.

He reaches up and tucks a lock of Keith's hair behind his ear.

"You're amazing," he says. "You know that?"

Keith can only gaze up at him in shock.

"Um. Anyway." Shiro stands. "I do want to spend some more time with you… but it might have to be tomorrow. I need to report to Medical soon, and then… I need to talk to Adam."

Keith nods. He stands up, too.

"You think he'll be upset that you still want to go?"

Shiro holds his gaze.

"I think Adam and I are over."

Keith thinks he must be hallucinating.

"What?" He puts his hand on Shiro's arm. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. But- just keep that to yourself for now, okay?"

"Of course, I'd never say anything, but- Shiro. Are you alright?"

Shiro takes Keith's hand and squeezes his fingers.

"Yes," he says. "I am."

* * *

Shiro glances at the clock in the viewscreen on the wall and curses. It's almost 22:00. He doesn't regret the task that's been keeping him busy past the cadets’ curfew, but he does regret the fact that he couldn't work any faster.

He's dressed for the gym already in his gray Garrison sweats and white t-shirt, so that's one point in his favor. He throws a change of clothes, a water bottle, and a small metal box into his duffle bag and rushes out into the hall.

The Garrison is generally quiet at this time of night. Officers and instructors can work late if they want to, but the labs and offices are on the far side of the building, and it's Thursday night, which means no one's staying up late to celebrate the weekend.

Shiro's glad. It's early enough that no one will be suspicious if they see him up and about, and late enough that he can enjoy some privacy.

He considers jogging the rest of the way to the senior cadets' corridor, then promptly banishes that notion.

He needs to relax.

He finishes a breathing exercise just as he makes it to Keith's quarters and rings his bell.

He hears quiet shuffling, and then Keith opens the door. He looks tired, but he's still wearing sweatpants and a shirt, which gives Shiro hope that he wasn't already sleeping.

"Hey," Shiro says. "I know it's late. I'm sorry. I had some things I needed to do."

Keith stands aside so Shiro can enter his quarters.

"It's fine, Shiro. You told me you'd be busy. I figured I'd just see you tomorrow."

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Keith taps the panel in the wall to close the door.

"Nope. I finished studying for the night."

"Okay. Great." Shiro pauses awkwardly. His mind goes completely blank. Keith regards him, his eyebrows slightly raised. _Shit,_ Shiro thinks. _I came in here for a reason! What the fuck am I doing?!_

"So… what's in the bag?" Keith ventures.

"Oh!" Shiro laughs. It's a nervous sound. "Sorry- yeah. I was thinking we could go… spar?"

Keith glances at his viewscreen to check the time.

"Now? I mean, I'd love to, but-"

"We can," Shiro reassures him. "I know it's after hours, but… you'll be with me."

Keith grins. He'll take any excuse to break a silly rule.

"Absolutely. You're on."

"Great. But- um. First, I just wanted to… well, I have something for you." Shiro sets his bag down on Keith's desk chair and takes out the small metal box. He holds it for a moment, fiddling with the clasp, then hands it to Keith.

"From the moon," he says. "I told you I'd bring you something."

Keith doesn't say anything, but he's blushing from the base of his throat all the way up to his cheeks, and his eyes are bright. He unhooks the clasp and opens the box.

There's a transparent rectangle inside, much like a specimen slide. It has a green leaf encased within it, about the same size and shape as a coffee bean.

"It's a fern," Shiro says. "Or… one of the leaves. I… grew it."

Keith looks a little awestruck.

"You grew this? On the moon?"

"Yeah. The project is still classified, but that's part of what I was doing up there. I preserved it in that casing. It should stay green forever. And it should be virtually indestructible, too."

Keith holds the little rectangle in his palm. It has one small hole at either end, and there's a thin leather cord threaded through one side.

"In case you want to… I dunno. Tie it to something?" Shiro knows he must be blushing, too. He feels like he's going to jump right out of his skin.

"I love it," Keith says seriously, meeting his eye. "It's perfect. I'll keep it safe."

"I know you will."

Keith wraps the leather cord around his wrist for a moment. There's more than enough length for him to tie it there if he wanted to.

Something light and fluttery comes to life in Shiro's stomach. The idea of Keith wearing his gift makes him feel a little lightheaded.

"I'll keep it here for now," Keith says, packing it carefully away inside the metal box. "I don't want to risk losing it at the gym."

He sets it down on his night stand, right next to his bed.

Shiro wonders if he'll take it out and look at it before he goes to sleep.

Keith packs a bag, and Shiro follows him out of his quarters and toward the gym.

He's happy to let Keith lead.

* * *

Shiro lays down next to Keith in the center of a training mat in the deserted gym. He abandons his stretching routine and looks up at the night sky, imagining the orientation and sequence of the solar system as it stands today. Kerberos is out there waiting for him. He's never wanted anything more than he wants this mission.

Still, he thinks, as he glances over at Keith- tonight, there's nowhere else he’d rather be.

"I'm going on the mission," he tells Keith. "Sam convinced them, so… it's official."

Keith nods up at the ceiling.

"I knew it would be. They would've been insane to try to stop you."

Shiro smiles at him, but Keith doesn't look his way.

"How did Adam take it?" Keith asks.

Shiro stretches his arms and laces his fingers behind his head, testing out the feeling of his own body without such a massive weight resting on his shoulders.

"We broke up," he says. "It was mutual. I moved my things into a temporary set of quarters."

Keith sits up and looks down at him.

"You moved out? Jesus, Shiro… is that what you were doing all night?"

"Yeah. I didn't want Adam to be stuck with all my stuff after I go." Shiro sits up. Keith's expression is serious, but Shiro can't guess what he might be thinking. "This is good, Keith. We agreed that things have been over between us for a while. We're going to take some time apart, then maybe try to be friends again when I come home. It's what we both want."

Keith nods slowly.

"I'm glad," he says. "You should be able to have what you want."

Shiro swallows. What he wants is to pull Keith into his lap and kiss him senseless.

He can't do that, though. Not yet. It isn't time. They'll both need to learn to be patient.

And if they can do that… if they can wait…

"I want to go to Kerberos," he says. "And then I want to come home and… see you."

Keith holds his gaze, but Shiro can tell it's an effort. His cheeks are so red, Shiro thinks he'd get burned if he reached over and touched him.

"You want to… _see me?"_

"Yes."

"I…" Keith clears his throat. He fidgets with his hands. "I'm not sure if I know what you mean, Shiro."

It takes every ounce of Shiro's will not to take Keith into his arms right then. He wants to do the right thing, but for the first time in his life, he doesn't know what that is. How can he tell Keith what he's feeling without saying too much?

"I mean that… you're important to me, Keith. You're important to me now, and when I come back from this mission… you'll be important to me then, too."

Keith stands. It's abrupt. He runs a hand through his hair and turns away, his body language restless, agitated.

"You mean that?" His voice is low and quiet.

"I do."

Keith sniffs. He wipes at his face, which is hidden from Shiro's view.

"You're important to me too," he says.

"Keith…"

"We should fight." Keith sniffs again, rolls his shoulders, shakes out his hands. "You ready?"

Shiro watches him for a moment. He's pushing again, saying things that are hard for Keith to listen to- not because he doesn't want to hear them, but because of how badly he _does._

Keith is affected, Shiro knows. Emotionally… and physically, too.

He knows what that's like. He knows how overwhelmingly affected he's become because of Keith.

He has more to say… but it'll have to wait.

He stands.

"I'm ready," he says.

Keith turns to face him. His cheeks are crimson. His gaze is sharp. Keith slips into a fighting stance, and Shiro feels a thrill of exhilaration.

Keith is about to give him the fight of his life.

He raises his fists- and then Keith is flying through space, charging straight for him without fear or hesitation.

 _Gorgeous,_ Shiro thinks. _Perfect._

He grins, dodges right, and gives himself over to the dance of traded blows and gasping breath. Keith is fast, the fastest he's ever seen, and they're both sweating inside of ten minutes, dodging each other's advances, trading punches and kicks to try to gain the upper hand.

Shiro knows he'd have a better shot if he took Keith to the floor, but he doesn't try to do that. The idea of rolling around on the ground with Keith - this fiery, beautiful boy, this undeniable force of nature - has Shiro dizzy and breathless far beyond the effects of physical exertion.

Maybe Keith notices this, or maybe he's having similar thoughts and feels more inclined to give in to the temptation, because the next time he moves to strike at Shiro's face, he feints and throws his full weight at Shiro's middle to tackle him to the ground.

They wrestle. Shiro's size and weight used to give him a massive advantage on the floor, but Keith has grown inhumanly strong, and he's learned to use his slight build and quickness in ways that Shiro had never foreseen. They tumble a few times before Keith gets Shiro on his back again, and then he seats himself at the juncture of Shiro's left thigh and hip. He gets control of that leg, then starts working on one of Shiro's arms-

"Shit-"

"Gotcha-"

"God, when did you get so _heavy-"_

"Save your breath, Commander-"

Shiro chuckles with all the air he has left, struggling to keep Keith from getting a lock on his right arm- but it's no use. He's too distracted. Keith is on top of him, his body hard and heavy, his hands grasping and _pressing,_ his pelvis pressed flush to Shiro's lower belly. Keith's hair is wild and his breath is hot, fanning over the front of Shiro's throat as he grunts and teases- and Shiro's done for. He can’t stay like this.

Not unless he wants Keith to know he's getting hard inside his sweats.

He slaps the mat in submission.

Keith freezes. He looks at Shiro, red-faced and breathing hard.

"Seriously?"

"Uh huh." Shiro shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "That's all I got. The night is yours."

Keith gives him a scrutinizing look, which gradually softens, as if he's realizing how close they are for the very first time.

He loosens his hold on Shiro's arm.

He shifts his weight where he's seated on Shiro's thigh.

Shiro swallows hard, helpless against the friction, half-hard underneath Keith's weight and entirely at Keith's mercy.

Keith's eyes go wide.

He's noticed.

He jumps to his feet and clears his throat.

"Um," he fumbles. "Showers?"

Shiro nods. It's all he can do.

The damage is done… and he can't say he's sorry. He and Keith are on even footing now. If Keith was worried about Shiro finding out that he's been getting aroused when they train… well, maybe now he won't have to worry anymore.

Shiro stands.

He notices Keith noticing the mound at the front of his sweats.

He smiles when Keith turns on his heel, grabs his bag, and practically sprints for the locker room.


	6. So Special to Me

Shiro takes his time following, and when he steps into the locker room, Keith is in the last stall in the row, closest to the far wall. That's new, Shiro thinks. Does he want some space? Or does he want to be caged in?

Shiro walks to the end of the row and lingers at the stall next to Keith's.

"Hey," he says. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Keith answers. "I'm good. Sorry, I-"

"Don't apologize." Shiro enters the stall, shuts and locks the door, and starts to undress. "That was on me. It's been… happening to me, lately."

Keith's quiet for a moment.

Then he says, "It's been happening to me, too."

Shiro smiles to himself as he folds his clothes and piles them on the bench. That's a bold admission for Keith. It's a good sign.

Shiro starts his own shower and steps underneath it.

"It's okay," Shiro tells him. "Nothing to be embarrassed about."

Shiro can hear water splashing around Keith's feet. He wonders if he's washing his hair or soaping up his body. He wonders what Keith looks like covered in suds.

"I thought you might be… upset," Keith ventures. "Or… I dunno. Uncomfortable."

Shiro leans in Keith's direction. Half unconsciously, he presses his palm to the wall that separates them.

"No," he says. "Not at all, Keith. I--" Shiro pauses. He knows he should stop there, but he finds that he can't. "I just want to be able to tell you how incredible you are," he says.

Shiro isn't sure, but he thinks he hears a whisper of a gasp.

"Then… tell me," Keith says.

Shiro closes his eyes.

He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't. He told himself he would come here to spend time with Keith, to have one last spar, to make one more set of memories for Keith to hang onto while he's gone...

But that had been a lie.

He'd come here for this.

"You're faster than anyone I've ever seen," he says. "You're at least as strong as I am. I don't know how it happened. I don't know where you keep all that power. You're super human, Keith."

He hears a heavy sound, as if Keith might've leaned against the wall.

 _"Super human,"_ Keith repeats. His voice is quiet. "That's how I think of you, Shiro."

"Mm. It's a nice thought. But it's not the same. I could never have matched you when I was seventeen. I wasn't half as strong when I was your size. You're-- um. You're special, Keith. You're so special."

He hears Keith's breathing catch.

He hears the subtle sound of skin sliding against skin.

He traces patterns through the condensation on the wall with his fingertips, wondering how long he'll have to wait to touch Keith's bare skin instead.

"You're special to _me,"_ he adds, softly.

The choked, muffled sound Keith makes has Shiro shuddering. He runs his tongue over his lower lip as his cock fills to full attention.

"Shiro," Keith murmurs. "I didn't know."

Shiro drags the heel of his hand slowly up and down his shaft.

"I shouldn't be telling you," he admits. "I thought I could hold out, but… maybe two years is too long to make you wait for something like that."

"I would've." Shiro can hear Keith's breathing go shallow. "I would've waited a lot longer than that."

Against all his better judgment, Shiro wraps his right hand around his cock.

"I missed you," he says. "It was only a few weeks, but-"

"I missed you too. I missed you so fucking much--"

What remains of Shiro's control slips away. He grips the shaft of his dick and lets go of a low, helpless groan-

His eyes fly open. His heartbeat pounds to a gallop as he straightens up and rests both hands on the wall in front of him.

Had Keith heard that? _Fucking hell,_ Keith wasn't supposed to _hear_ him, he wasn't supposed to _know--_

"Shiro."

_Jesus._

Keith is standing outside the door of Shiro's shower stall.

Keith is knocking softly to come in.

"Shiro… please."

Shiro feels like the Earth is tilting underneath his feet.

He shouldn't… he _can't…_

But he wants to.

He wants to so _fucking_ badly.

He's overwhelmed, he can't think straight-

So he acts instead.

He jabs at the control panel in the wall to open the lock on his door.

He takes small, shivering breaths as Keith's wet, solid footsteps grow closer. He doesn't turn, he can't do that, he's already crossed more lines that he ever thought he'd cross-

Keith's arms wrap around him from behind. Keith's hands rest warm and strong on his chest and stomach.

Keith flattens himself against Shiro's back and holds him tight.

"I would've waited," Keith says. His cheek rests against Shiro's spine. "But I don't want to."

"Keith," Shiro breathes out. He finds Keith's left hand and tangles their fingers together. "I shouldn't-- I don't know if I can--"

"I know. It's okay. You don't have to. Just… let me. Please." Keith’s right hand slides down the flat plane of Shiro's stomach. "It's what I want. I've wanted to for so long…" He lets his fingertips run through Shiro's dark, trimmed curls, lets them rub around the base of his cock.

He kisses gently between Shiro's shoulder blades.

 _"Please,"_ he whispers… and Shiro's done for.

"Keith," he pleads, reaching back to wrap his hand around Keith's hip, to pull him closer-

Keith takes Shiro's cock in hand and starts to stroke… and Shiro _whimpers._ He rocks his hips, holds tight to Keith's body, and bites his lip until it stings. His vision goes hazy at his own sensitivity.

It's just like it was at the Lunar Base, except infinitely more powerful, because Keith is _right here._ Keith is talking to him in real time, Keith's mouth is moving down his back, Keith's hand is pumping and _fucking_ his cock-

"Jesus," he mumbles, his eyes squeezed shut. "God, _Keith…"_

"Yeah," Keith answers. His breath is hot along Shiro's spine. "It's perfect, Shiro. I'll take care of you. I promise."

It's no surprise that that's something Keith wants.

"You do," Shiro tells him. "You have been--"

"Really-?"

"Yes--"

Shiro moans the word as Keith palms and squeezes over his cockhead. Keith is confident like this, his grip strong and sure, and Shiro knows he'll never last.

It isn't fair, though, to be taking so much from him. Shiro wants to _give_ too, he wants to give Keith _everything--_

"I watched your stunts," he gasps. "On the Lunar Base. I couldn't stop watching you. You're always so gorgeous, so beautiful when you fly, and-"

Keith slows to palm over his head, over his slit, then works him up again, even faster than before.

"And what?" It sounds like a demand. Keith's voice is rough. He's rutting against the back of Shiro's thigh. "And _what,_ Shiro?"

"And you-- you made me feel like this," Shiro tells him, squeezing Keith's hand as his muscles start to tense. "Just listening to you, just hearing your voice and-- and seeing your face, I was-- _fuck,_ Keith--"

"You got off like that," Keith growls, pumping hard and fast at the base of Shiro's dick. "Just like I'm gonna get you off right now--"

Shiro _comes._ He exhales a muffled cry and spills all over Keith's hand, all over the wall in front of them. He trembles, his cock pulsing hard in Keith's expert hold, and Keith works him through it, though his grip has gone looser, more erratic-

 _"Shiro,"_ Keith moans, right before Shiro feels a burst of hot wetness all over the back of his thigh: Keith's well-earned climax.

Shiro groans with pleasure, with relief.

He holds tight to Keith's hand until his breathing starts to settle, until he can feel Keith relaxing against his back.

Then he turns to take in Keith's reddened cheeks and fiery stare.

He holds Keith's face with both hands.

"You are _so_ special to me," he says, because he needs Keith to know why this risk was worth taking.

He kisses Keith's hot, open mouth.

* * *

Keith's whole concept of existence collapses down to the feeling of Shiro kissing him. It's slow and sensual and full of so much feeling, so much affection, Keith can barely take it in and support his own weight at the same time. That's okay though, because Shiro winds his arms around him to pull him close, to hold him up.

Their bodies press together.

Shiro's tongue teases Keith's lower lip.

Keith shudders from head to toe and kisses Shiro back.

He wraps his arms around Shiro's shoulders and slides one hand around the back of his head, craving tactile feedback as proof that this is real. He's dreamed of doing this so many times, he knows he'd be doubting the reality of it all if it weren't for the sweet slide of Shiro's lips, and the weight of Shiro's broad hands on his back, and the press of Shiro's cock against his stomach-

Keith groans. He holds tight to the back of Shiro's neck and licks into his mouth, forcing their tongues together in a sensual slide-

Shiro answers with a low rumble of his own. He licks at Keith's tongue, pulls gently at his lower lip. He moves one hand up and down the curve of Keith's spine in a gesture so deliberate, it has Keith shivering, feeling like Shiro must've thought about it, _planned_ it, long before tonight…

_Tonight._

Keith's senses expand beyond the press of Shiro's body. He hears the spray of the shower, feels the splash of the water around his feet.

_Tonight._

They came to the gym tonight. They're still here, in the locker room, in the public showers-

"Wow," Shiro murmurs, finally pulling away for air. He's still holding Keith close, looking down at him with so much sweetness, Keith almost forgets himself all over again. "Keith, that was incredible-"

"Shiro." Keith blinks, trying to clear his head. "I-- God, _yes,_ I wanted this so much, but-- we can't stay here. We can't get caught like this."

Shiro shakes his head. He looks concerned.

"Don't worry, it's late-"

"No. We can't risk it. Please, just- let's go back to my quarters, okay?"

Shiro presses their foreheads together.

"Always looking out for me, huh, sweetheart?"

Keith shivers at that. He'd be helpless if Shiro really tried to keep him here, lost in the wonder of his deepest, greatest wish coming true.

Luckily, though, Shiro kisses his cheek and lets him go.

"Okay," Shiro says. "We'll go to your quarters."

Keith nods and turns away from him before either one of them can change their mind.

* * *

They're both quiet on the walk back to Keith's room, their hair still damp from the shower, their expressions neutral in case they happen to bump into anyone else.

They don't, and Keith is grateful. He wasn't prepared for this. Having Shiro's affection has already altered him on a level so fundamental, he's afraid to even speak.

He swipes them into his quarters. They both drop their bags by the door.

They regard each other silently for a moment- and then Shiro is hugging him, gathering him up into a close, intimate embrace.

"Shiro," Keith murmurs, finally letting himself relax again. He tucks his face into the crook of Shiro's neck. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I put you in that position. I just had no idea- _Shiro._ I didn't know you _felt…"_

"I do." Shiro's nose is buried in his hair. "I do feel for you, Keith. And I don't want you to feel sorry. I'm not. I would've stopped you if it wasn't what I wanted."

Keith pulls away, just enough to look at him.

"What else do you want?" he asks.

Shiro smiles at him, but there's a hint of sadness in it.

"C'mon," he says, gesturing to the bed. "Sit with me? We'll talk about it."

Keith does.

They sit cross-legged, facing each other, holding each other's hands in the space between them.

"Keith…" Shiro strokes the back of Keith's hand with his thumb. "I wanted this to happen. I wanted it so, _so_ much. I just thought it would be… later."

Keith nods. It hurts, but he knew better than to hope for anything different.

"Me too," he says. "I mean… we _can't._ Not really. I would never risk your career like that, your reputation…" He sighs. "And I'm… too young. I know I am. I wasn't going to tell you how I felt, not until… I don't even know when. Not until I could be the person you needed me to be."

Shiro is watching him, looking mildly stunned. He doesn't answer right away. He just holds tight to Keith's hands.

"Hey," he finally says. "It isn't about me. It's about _you._ You need to grow into that person for your own sake. And you're so close, sweetheart. You're almost there. That's why I--" He hesitates. Keith wonders what he's trying not to say. "That's why I feel so much for you," Shiro says. "That's why I couldn't figure out how to hide it."

"But you'll have to," Keith says. "You can't let anyone else know."

Shiro looks like he can't stand the thought.

"But you'll know," he says. He reaches up to cradle Keith's cheek with one hand. "That'll have to be enough for now."

"It is." Keith leans into his palm. "It's more than enough. It's more than I thought I'd ever have."

Shiro gently strokes his cheek.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would be easier to wait, so I wouldn't have to leave after being with you like this…"

Keith smiles sadly.

"Give me some credit. I know you. I know you belong out there. I'm ready to wait for you. And now I'll be able to remember… this." He kisses Shiro's palm.

Shiro keeps his hand close. He touches Keith's lips gently with his fingers.

"Shame on me for ever underestimating you," he says. "You're incredible, Keith."

Keith's eyelashes flutter. He kisses Shiro's fingertips.

Shiro smiles.

"Right. The praise. I kept trying to figure out why you were so angry with me."

"I wasn't. I was trying to hide how much I… wanted you."

Shiro's eyelids go heavy. Keith's never seen him look like this before, so soft and _wanting._ He's always found it overwhelming to be on the receiving end of Shiro's focused attention- but this has the fire inside him blazing so bright, he feels like he might burn away completely.

"You don't have to hide it now," Shiro says.

Keith hesitates.

He's practiced this so many times inside his mind, he knows exactly what he wants to do… but how is he supposed to know what Shiro wants?

 _I watched your stunts,_ Shiro had said to him. _I couldn't stop watching you._

_You're always so gorgeous, so beautiful when you fly._

Thinking of that gives him courage. Shiro knows him better than anyone. Shiro wants him just as he is.

Shiro had gotten hard for him, had _gotten off_ for him in the shower.

Keith braces one hand on the mattress and sweeps himself smoothly, effortlessly into Shiro's lap, so that he's straddling his left thigh. In a way, it's familiar, because he's been here so many times during training.

It's also the most foreign, most terrifying, most exhilarating thing he's ever done.

He wraps his arms around Shiro's neck and looks in his eyes. He's so close, he can see the quicksilver strands in Shiro's irises.

"How's this?" he asks.

Shiro’s looking back at him, pink-cheeked and open-mouthed.

"Perfect," he says, resting his broad hands around Keith's waist.

They kiss each other softly. Shiro takes it slow, and Keith doesn't argue with that pace. He can feel every gentle press, every bit of sweetness Shiro gives him. He can feel the heat of Shiro's shallow breath and the subtle wetness of his lower lip. He can feel the weight of Shiro's hands surrounding him, holding him so tight, so steady.

He can feel that Shiro cares, that Shiro _wants._ He can feel that this is real.

 _"Wow,"_ Shiro says again, pulling away just enough to speak. "Incredible. I had no idea you could kiss like that."

"I learned," Keith says. "I… practiced. For you."

The admission lands. Shiro tightens his grip on his waist.

"And… what we did in the showers?" Shiro's lips brush against his cheek. "Did you practice that too?"

"No." Keith is touching him, running his fingertips over Shiro's cheek, his nose, his chin. "I've never done anything like that with anyone. I never wanted to before."

Shiro tucks Keith's hair back from his face to kiss his jaw, his neck.

"I'm honored," he says softly. "I'm so lucky, Keith."

Keith shivers, shifts his hips. Shiro notices.

"You're so beautiful," Shiro adds. He kisses the rim of Keith's ear. "So strong. You want to know another reason I missed you so much?"

Keith's exhaled breath is shaky. He's getting hard, heating up with every pretty word Shiro says to him.

"Tell me," he says.

"Because you're brilliant." Shiro's kissing his neck, nudging his chin to the side to get at the front of his throat. "Because I knew I could do my job better if I had you with me."

Keith _moans._ He's painfully hard. His hips rock forward all on their own, and Shiro answers by grinding his thigh up to meet him.

"Yeah," Shiro soothes. "That's it, sweetheart. You don't have to hide. You don't have to wait. I'm right here."

He wraps both hands around Keith's hips and starts moving Keith's body in a slow, steady grind.

Keith gasps. He leans into it, letting his cock rub indulgently against the hard plane of Shiro's stomach. He grasps the back of Shiro's neck and hangs on tight, happy to let Shiro touch him any way and anywhere he wants to.

"Shiro, I-- _wow,_ that's…"

Shiro hums a little laugh.

"Feels good?" He kisses sweetly underneath Keith's chin. "I want you to feel good. I want to take care of you."

Keith nods, completely at his mercy. He's never been so aroused in his whole life. Shiro sucks lightly at his pulse point, and Keith arches his back with a moan, digging his knees into either side of Shiro's thigh-

"Ooh," Shiro coos. "Sensitive there. I like that. You look so, so pretty like this."

 _"Oh,"_ Keith breathes out, searching for the power of speech. Shiro says such nice things to him. Shiro tells him the truth. Keith wishes he could do the same. "Shiro, that's-- _nhh,_ your mouth…"

"Yeah?"

"And your _hands…"_

Shiro grasps and massages his hips, still grinding him steadily against his thigh and his stomach.

"They fit just right," Shiro says. "Don't you think?"

 _"Yes--_ but… I want to make you feel good…"

Shiro looks at him.

"Oh, Keith, you do. You are. You blew my mind earlier."

"But-- _more…"_

Shiro smiles. He kisses Keith's lips.

He straightens up and lets go of Keith for long enough to pull his own shirt off. Then he takes Keith's right hand and presses it to his chest, over his heart. He holds Keith's gaze as he kneads into his pec with their clasped hands, then moves Keith's thumb over his nipple.

Keith licks his lips.

"Can I use my mouth?"

Shiro squeezes his hand.

"Oh, sweetheart, _yes."_

Keith reclaims his hand. He pulls his shirt off, too, and drops it onto the floor on top of Shiro's.

"You first," he says. "Show me how."

Shiro bites his lower lip.

He runs his hands up and down Keith's bare sides, tracing the definition in his chest and stomach with his thumbs.

"Gorgeous," he murmurs, then buries his face in Keith's chest. His kisses are hot and open-mouthed, up to Keith's collarbone, then across to one of his pecs. He kneads the other with his hand as he closes his mouth over Keith's nipple and starts to suck.

_"Oh-!"_

Keith gasps, grabbing at Shiro's shoulders. "Oh my God- _yeah…"_

Shiro laughs a low rumble against his skin. He lets go of Keith's chest for long enough to grab his hip again and urge him to grind, which he does- slowly, indulgently. He was already painfully sensitive, and now he knows he must be soaking the inside of his briefs, leaking pre with every thrum of pleasure Shiro inspires with his lips, his tongue-

_"Hahh-!"_

Shiro pauses. He kisses the modest swell of Keith's pectoral and straightens up.

"Can I touch you?"

" _Yes,"_ Keith groans. "Anywhere. Anything you want, Shiro-"

Shiro kisses him. It's hot and deep, and Keith matches him urgently, holding on tight while Shiro tugs down on the front of his sweats and works his hand inside to stroke his cock. Keith keens, and Shiro smiles, working him right up to a slow rhythm that has him hot and shivering almost right away-

 _"Shiro--"_ Keith is breathless, nudging at Shiro's cheek with his nose. "It's- I'm already--"

"Yeah," Shiro soothes, eager and enamored. "Show me, sweetheart. You're so pretty, I want to see you come for me--"

Keith does. He chokes out a whine and comes all over Shiro's stomach, his fingertips digging hard into the back of Shiro's neck. Shiro kisses his cheek, his lips, his nose, still working him carefully with his hand while he shakes through the most intense climax he's ever had.

"That's it, Keith." Shiro noses affectionately at his temple. "So beautiful. You look just like I pictured..."

That penetrates, even through the blackout haze of Keith's pleasure.

"You-- you pictured me like this?"

Shiro smiles. He finally lets go of Keith's cock and brings his hand to his lips.

He runs his tongue over his knuckles, through the mess of Keith's release.

"So many times," he says.

Keith stares back at him for a moment… then tackles him to the bed.

Shiro goes down easy, easier than he ever has, like he'd happily submit to the whole of Keith's will- and that only makes Keith want him more. He kisses Shiro deep, holding his wrist to the bed with one hand, feeling down the flat of his stomach with the other.

"Want to touch you," he breathes. He nips at Shiro's lower lip.

"Yes," Shiro tells him. "Please…"

Keith kicks off his pants and then drags Shiro's sweats and briefs down, just enough to get his hand around his cock. Shiro throbs in his hold, so hard and thick, and Keith groans at the feeling, fully appreciating the weight of him for the very first time. What they'd done in the shower had been spontaneous, frantic- and while Keith feels just as desperate now, he also feels focused and present. He's in control.

He strokes up and down Shiro's cock, sliding his fingers through the slick of his pre. Shiro gets wet, too.

"Sexy," Keith tells him, riding a wave of boldness. "You feel so good, Shiro…"

"God, _Keith…"_ Shiro's breathing heavy, rocking his hips to move his cock through Keith's grasp. _"Fuck,_ you're perfect…"

Keith nuzzles at his face, then puts his mouth on Shiro's neck, remembering how good it felt when Shiro did the same for him. He kisses and teases with his teeth while Shiro gasps and shifts underneath him-

 _"Yeah,"_ Shiro begs. "Like that, just like that--"

Keith sucks at his skin, stroking Shiro off with a firm, careful grip. He makes his way down, aiming for the base of Shiro's throat, feeling powerful like he's never felt before-

_"Yeah baby don't stop, oh God--"_

Keith licks at Shiro's throat, drunk on his taste… then shuffles down to run his tongue over the hard bead of his left nipple-

_"Hhah--!"_

Shiro _bucks,_ grabbing at Keith’s shoulder, then moves his hand to wind his fingers through Keith's hair. He's holding on, like he wants to guide Keith's movement- but he doesn't.

 _He trusts me,_ Keith thinks. _He wants me. He wants me just like this._

Keith closes his mouth over Shiro's nipple and _sucks._

Shiro makes a choking, groaning sound.

Keith works his tongue in messy circles and exaggerated licks, kneading into Shiro's pec with his cheek and his chin-

_"Keith-!"_

Shiro gasps out his name, and it's enough to make Keith's dick jump and throb all over again.

"Shiro," he mumbles, mouthing wetly at his chest. "You taste good…"

Shiro curses.

"I'm-- I'm not gonna last," he warns. "Fucking-- _ah-!"_

Keith might've been disappointed, if he wasn't already firmly anchored in euphoria. He licks one more indulgent circle around Shiro's nipple and then slides down to pull off Shiro’s briefs and sweats and kneel between his legs.

He pauses, then, to get a good look at Shiro's cock up close. It's thick and throbbing, shimmering at the reddened tip where Shiro's been leaking all over Keith’s hand. Keith inclines his head to kiss him there, then licks carefully over the slit-

 _"Oh--_ sweetheart, are you sure?"

Keith nods. He licks Shiro again. He savors the taste: salty and heady. He thinks of the ocean.

He takes Shiro's cock in his mouth and sinks down.

_"Ahhn--"_

Shiro's touching him, caressing his face, gathering up his hair. It's heaven.

Keith sucks and licks, as well as he can with his mouth stuffed full and stretched wide. This will take practice.

His mouth waters even further at the thought.

_"Jesus--"_

Shiro shivers underneath him, a brief tremor that has his thighs shaking and his hands tensing in Keith's hair.

He really is close.

Keith smiles around his mouthful.

He works his hand around the base of Shiro's dick and starts to stroke him off again, gaining speed as he tries to work his mouth up and down the upper third-

_"Oh fuck yes oh my God just like that-"_

Keith moans in answer, humming around Shiro's cockhead, thinking he could probably come untouched just from getting Shiro off like this, just like in the shower-

_"Keith baby sweetheart just-- faster okay just a little bit-"_

Keith closes his eyes and bobs his head, stroking hard and fast up and down Shiro's shaft-

_"Fuck FUCK KEITH--!"_

Shiro's fingers tangle tight in Keith's hair as he comes. Keith hangs onto him and drinks him down, filled to the brim with pride and more aroused than ever, loving every throb and pulse Shiro has to give him. He could do this all night, he knows. He could do this every day.

He could do this forever, if that was what Shiro wanted.

He hopes for that as he carefully pulls off and looks up at Shiro's flushed, entranced expression.

He hopes for _forever._

"Baby," Shiro tells him, combing gently through his hair. "Sweetheart, that was… brilliant. Just like you."

Keith has never loved anything more than he loves Shiro in this moment. He loves Shiro more than flying, more than breathing, more than the stars and all their planets and moons.

He can't tell him, though. Not yet. Not until he comes home from Kerberos. Keith knows he isn't old enough, and he needs Shiro to believe him.

"I didn't want to stop," he says instead. "I think maybe I never want to stop."

Shiro sits up. He presses his lips to Keith's temple and gathers him up in his arms.

"Neither do I," he says. "So we won't. We'll just… press pause for a while."

Keith nods. He lays his head on Shiro's chest.

"I can do that," he says. "For you."

He loses track of time for a while, relaxing in Shiro's arms while Shiro rubs his back and leaves soft kisses in his hair.

He thinks of the ocean again- of the heady, salty taste of Shiro’s cum.

“I thought…” He clears his throat, suddenly shy, even though he and Shiro are naked and holding each other on his bed. “I thought it was supposed to taste… bitter.”

Shiro hums into his hair.

“Didn’t it?”

“No. Just salty… but in a good way. It made me think of the beach I went to once when I was a kid.”

“Hmm.” Shiro’s rubbing small circles into his lower back. “Maybe your taste buds are as special as the rest of you.”

Keith smiles.

“I liked it. I liked it a lot. Even just your skin tastes good to me.”

“Y’know… you tasted good to me, too. Sweet somehow.” Shiro sweeps Keith’s hair to the side to kiss his neck. “I’m so happy you showed me how sweet you can be.”

Keith takes this in.

He’s sure Shiro is the only person in the world who would ever think of him as sweet.

He likes that.

 _My only one,_ he thinks.

“Hey… Keith?”

“Mhm?”

“Would you want me to stay here tonight?”

Keith sits up. He looks in Shiro’s eyes and notices for the first time that he looks tired.

Really tired.

“Could you? I mean… what if someone suspects? What if someone sees you leave in the morning?”

“I’ve come to see you in the morning before. Plus… here. Let me check my messages, okay?”

Shiro stands from the bed and digs his datapad out of his gym bag. Keith is soothed by the sight of him, tall and broad and naked, standing in the middle of his room.

“Yeah… I’ll have to be up at dawn anyway,” Shiro says. “I’ve got a whole day with Medical tomorrow. Sanda’s going to make me jump through every hoop she can think of before we launch.” He looks at Keith. “I’ll be discreet, I promise… but I can go, if it’ll make you feel better-”

“No!” Keith vaults off of the bed. He moves to tuck himself into Shiro’s side as if some fundamental force had pulled him there. “Please stay.”

Shiro tosses the datapad onto Keith’s desk.

He slides his hands down to the backs of Keith’s thighs and lifts him easily off the floor to hold him tight.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up for bed.”

Keith closes his eyes, tucks his face into Shiro's neck, and lets himself be carried.


	7. Keep the Fire Going for Me

Shiro wakes in the darkness of pre-dawn, a half hour before his alarm is set to go off. He can see the time on the viewscreen that’s embedded in the opposite wall, and that’s lucky. He can’t even fathom getting out of bed to check his datapad, because Keith is sleeping in his arms, breathing deep, even breaths with his head resting over Shiro’s heart.

Shiro inclines his head just enough to breathe in the warm, spiced-citrus scent of Keith’s hair.

He's done this all wrong.

He's about to leave on a long term mission. He's less than a day removed from the long term relationship that previously defined his personal life and so much more. He's slowly dying from a degenerative disease…

And the person he's fallen in love with is so young, the two of them can't even hold hands in public.

He's done this all wrong… and he wouldn't change any of it. He thinks some of Keith's recklessness has rubbed off on him, and that it might be a good thing. Shiro has flown ships fast enough to escape the gravity of the sun and jumped off cliffs on a hoverbike and plummeted through the Earth's atmosphere all the way down into the depths of the ocean… and yet he's never felt more alive than Keith has made him feel in the span of a few hours.

Keith understands him like no one ever has. Keith is his mirror and his greatest champion.

Keith knows how to love him the way he's desperately needed to be loved.

Keith hasn't said it, but Shiro feels it from him- a love that's strong enough to keep years and light-years from tearing them apart. It's immense and terrifying, and as humbling as the love Shiro feels for Keith. It almost makes Shiro want to stay.

Almost.

Shiro curls a lock of Keith's hair around his index finger.

He slides his hand down the lovely curve of Keith's spine.

He thinks about how Keith looked before they got in bed together- slender and perfect wearing one of Shiro's too-big t-shirts.

Shiro holds Keith a little tighter.

He knows he shouldn't… but he's always been a little bit selfish. He's always been willing to chase after what he wants, and right now, he wants Keith more than anything in the world. He wants Keith even more than he wants the sky.

He slips his hand underneath the hem of Keith's shirt to rub gently into his lower back.

He moves Keith's hair away from his face to press a slow, sweet kiss to his forehead.

Keith stirs in his arms, and Shiro aches for him.

"Hey, sweetheart," he whispers.

"Shiro," Keith mumbles. He's already running his hand up Shiro's stomach. "Do you have to go?"

"No. It's early still. Do you want some more sleep? Or do you want to… spend some time with me?"

Keith nuzzles underneath Shiro's chin. He keeps doing that - exploring Shiro's body with his face, his nose, like a cat - and Shiro thinks it's the most endearing thing he's ever seen or felt.

"You," Keith murmurs. He's half on top of Shiro already. "Just want you, Shiro…"

Shiro sighs with relief, running his hands down Keith's sides to grasp at his hips. He pulls their bodies together, and Keith comes so willingly, making such sweet, sleepy sounds, that Shiro realizes all over again that he's the luckiest man in the universe.

 _"I want you, too,"_ he whispers. _"Come here, baby…"_

They kiss each other slowly. Keith is still half asleep, which makes it all so much more intimate. Shiro undresses him carefully, lovingly, pausing to run his hands over his back and his thighs and his perfectly rounded backside. Keith sighs and melts for him, so willing, so generous with kisses and touches of his own, and it feels so good, so _right,_ Shiro can barely fathom what it'll be like when they can truly take their time to practice and learn how to please each other.

But will there be anything left to learn? Keith can please him so well already, Shiro can barely accept that it's actually happening.

He holds Keith's naked body close while they kiss, while he tastes the inside of Keith's mouth.

He lets Keith push and pull at his underclothes until they're both bare from head to toe.

He slips his knee between Keith's thighs and pulls their bodies flush, and they grind like that, touching and kissing until the pleasure has spread to every last corner of Shiro's body and mind.

 _"Shiro,"_ Keith whispers, like he's praying.

 _"There will be time,"_ Shiro tells him. _"I'll come home, and there will be time for us."_

 _"I'll be here,"_ Keith says. _"I'll be waiting."_

They grasp and touch, mapping out each other's nakedness. They kiss and nip and taste. They grind and _grind_ and hold each other tight until they're panting, then shivering, then spent.

Shiro kisses Keith back to sleep before he slips out of bed and pads to the shower, wondering how a love so immense can fit inside his heart.

* * *

Keith wakes to the sound of his alarm and calls out to silence it.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Shiro's t-shirt folded neatly on the bed next to him, along with the fern from the moon and a handwritten note.

 _I'll miss you,_ it says. _See you tonight._

It isn't signed. They can't leave a paper trail. They can't ever let anyone know what happened between them last night. It was illicit, forbidden.

It was the happiest, most profound experience of Keith's life.

It had been so lonely, loving Shiro before. He had barely dared to hope that Shiro would ever see him as anything more than a friend.

But Shiro had come to him last night, blushing and nervous like Keith had never seen him before. Shiro had told him sweet things and kissed him like he meant it. Shiro had touched and tasted Keith’s body and held him all night long.

Keith trusts Shiro with everything he has. If Shiro can kiss him like that and be with him like that… if Shiro can say that Keith is the one he wants… then it must be true.

Keith believes it.

He lets Shiro’s affection settle around his shoulders like a mantle. He lets it hold and cover him like a suit of armor.

He buries his face in Shiro’s shirt and thinks of the way they held each other in the dark.

He runs his hands over his own body, mapping out the path Shiro followed last night, rolling onto his stomach just to have something to press himself against…

He sighs.

Shiro was right. It'll be harder to say goodbye, now that Keith knows what it's like to be with Shiro so… intimately.

 _See you tonight,_ Shiro had said.

Keith doesn’t know how many nights they have left together, so he has to make the most of every single second.

He slips out of bed and showers, taking extra care to scrub everywhere twice.

He takes an extra couple minutes to examine every article of leisure clothing he owns, wondering what Shiro would most like to see him wearing… or what he might most enjoy taking off of him. Shiro had touched his hips a lot, and his chest too. And early this morning, when they'd been so close to each other in the darkness, Shiro had grasped and kneaded at Keith's backside with both hands, and it had been so sexy and tender that it had made Keith dizzy.

Shiro defines Keith's very concept of _sexy._

He wants to do the same for Shiro.

He sets aside every article of clothing that has potential.

He ties Shiro's fern securely around his wrist.

He hides it underneath his uniform jacket and sends Shiro a text: _Good luck today. See you later._

He leaves his quarters, ready to daydream his way through the day.

* * *

Keith doesn’t see Shiro again until late afternoon. He finds him waiting in the hallway when he leaves his organic chemistry classroom, holding up a cup of coffee and wearing an apologetic smile.

Keith leans against the wall next to him, letting the other cadets move past them and basking in Shiro’s fond expression.

“For you,” Shiro says, handing him the coffee. “I thought you might be… tired. After last night.”

“And this morning,” Keith adds, smirking. He takes a sip. It’s made exactly how he likes it.

“...And this morning,” Shiro confirms. He looks sheepish. “Should I apologize?”

“Only if you want me to kick your ass in this hallway.”

Shiro grins.

“Is it bad that that sounds pretty appealing?”

Keith giggles.

Shiro is _flirting_ with him.

He loves it.

“Raincheck,” Keith says. “After classes?”

Shiro’s smile falters.

“I’ll be tied up until late. I’m so sorry.”

Keith takes another sip of coffee, trying to hide his disappointment.

“More hoops to jump through?”

“Yeah. They’re trying out different versions of the gene therapy they’ve been using to stabilize the muscles in my arm. They want to make some portable doses for me to take on the mission.”

Keith nods.

“Sounds worthwhile. Don’t worry about it. I’ll stay busy until you’re done.”

Shiro tugs at one of his sleeves.

“You’re the best. I’m glad I got to see you.”

“Me too. Thanks for the coffee.”

“It’s the least I can do. It’s my fault you missed out on some sleep.”

“Mm. And it’ll be my fault if you’re up all night tonight.”

Shiro’s eyes go wide. His cheeks turn a very pretty shade of pink.

Keith grins, pleased with the effect.

“Holy hell,” Shiro mutters. “You are something else, you know that?”

Keith pushes off the wall. He touches Shiro’s forearm.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he says. “Maybe you can show me later, Commander.”

He flashes Shiro a sharp smile and then heads off down the hallway, leaving Shiro alone with his imagination.

* * *

Keith is playing a video game on his bed when Shiro finally arrives just before 23:00 that night. It’s a classic Nintendo title, something to soothe his nerves, and it worked well enough for the last hour, but Keith’s adrenaline spikes as soon as Shiro rings his bell.

He switches off the game, stashes the controller on his desk, and looks himself over one more time in the full length mirror that hangs on his wall.

He looks _good._ He’s confident about that, at least. He’s wearing skin-tight training leggings that leave nothing whatsoever to the imagination, with only tight, high-cut briefs underneath. His tank top is loose and cherry red, and does an intentionally poor job of concealing his chest. Some of his hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, because he likes how it looks, and because he’s wondering how long it will take before Shiro caves and pulls the elastic out. He likes the thought of that. It’s one of many fantasies he’s been exploring since the moment he woke up that morning.

But he doesn’t have to daydream anymore, and he’s glad. Shiro is here.

He taps the door open and tries to look casual.

“Keith! Sorry, I--”

Shiro stops. His mouth stays open. He looks Keith over slowly, his eyes traveling down from his face to his waist to his toes and back up again. Shiro is painfully sexy in a clean gray tee and black sweats, even more so thanks to the reddening blush in his cheeks.

"Uhm," he fumbles. "...Keith, you're-- uh."

Keith giggles.

He pulls Shiro inside and taps the door shut.

"I'm what?" He's the picture of innocence, smiling at Shiro as if he didn't deliberately put on the sexiest outfit he could find.

"You're a fucking _dream,"_ Shiro says. "God, look at you…"

Keith grins.

"Ditto," he says. "But you look good in everything."

"Well, so do you, but especially _that._ God, you can never wear that while we spar, I'd never live through it."

Keith files that comment away for further consideration.

"I make no promises," he says. "You always tell me to take any advantage I can get."

"Damn." Shiro looks him over again. "Those leggings are definitely an advantage."

Keith thinks he might actually combust if his cheeks get any hotter, so he opts for a change of subject and nods at the white cardboard box Shiro is holding.

"Whatcha got there?"

"Ah. Um. Here..."

Shiro sets the box down on Keith’s desk and opens the lid.

There's a small, round chocolate cake inside.

"Dessert?" Keith asks. "Are we celebrating?"

"Yeah. We're celebrating so many things. Um." Shiro picks up Keith's hand and gives him a squeeze. "Including the birthdays I'll miss."

"Oh, Shiro…" Keith squeezes back. "You shouldn't be thinking about that. It's not important."

"It is, though. Things like that can add up when the person you care about is far away. I just wanted you to know that I'll still care. I'll still think about you all the time."

Keith wants to argue the point… but he doesn't. He's reassured by the gesture, just as Shiro wants him to be.

"That means a lot," he says. "Thank you."

Shiro smiles.

"Here," he says. He reaches into the box and swipes his index finger through the chocolate frosting on the side of the cake. "It's your favorite."

He holds his finger up to Keith's lips.

Keith takes a second to consider his response… then sticks out his tongue and licks slowly up the side of Shiro's finger.

"Mm." He holds Shiro's gaze while he savors the taste. "Perfect," he says.

Then he takes hold of Shiro's wrist and pulls the upper half of his finger into his mouth.

He licks and sucks at the chocolate, exploring with his tongue much more than might be strictly necessary- and Shiro watches, his eyelids suddenly heavy, his tongue playing unconsciously at the corner of his upper lip.

Keith smiles without pulling away. He bobs down Shiro's finger, curling and working his tongue as he goes, then sucks Shiro clean on his way back up…

He lets Shiro go with a gentle kiss to his fingertip.

Shiro makes a low, unintelligible sound.

Keith smiles.

"You're right," he says. "It's my favorite. Tastes almost as good as you."

Shiro blinks helplessly at him. He exhales a little breath.

"Jesus," he mutters. "Is this why you've been kicking my ass in the gym lately? You've been holding all this in?"

"All this _what?"_ Keith teases. He kisses Shiro's finger again.

"You know very well _what,"_ Shiro laughs. "You're the sexiest person I've ever laid eyes on and you know it."

Keith goes still, caught off guard by Shiro's phrasing.

"Ever?" he repeats.

Shiro shakes his head. He looks both endeared and exasperated.

He rests his hands lightly around Keith's neck and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Listen," he says. "I'm gonna spend all night telling you how sexy you are. But I have to tell you something else first, okay?"

Keith looks in his eyes. Shiro tried to soften the blow, but he can tell it isn't good news.

"What happened?"

Shiro touches his cheeks with his thumbs.

"Come sit with me?"

He leads Keith to the bed. They sit side by side against the wall with their hands clasped together. Shiro toys with the loose strands of hair that still hang around Keith's face for a minute before he starts.

"The tests of the portable gene therapy formula were successful," he says. "They'll be working through the night to manufacture the dispensers and enough of the formula to last through the mission."

Keith touches up and down Shiro's right arm, wishing he could fix whatever evil is at work underneath his skin.

"That sounds like a good thing."

"It is. Except…" Shiro looks profoundly sad. It's so startling, Keith grips tight to his hand.

Shiro squeezes back.

"Sweetheart," he says. "They want to launch tomorrow."

Keith doesn't process this at first.

It doesn't make sense.

Deep space missions usually take weeks or months to plan. Even if the nature of this one is time sensitive, Keith thought they would at least have a few days.

Shiro just came home yesterday… and he's leaving again _tomorrow?_

"I know," Shiro says softly. "I'm so sorry. I wish we had more time."

Keith can't answer. He feels cold all of a sudden. He feels like he can't take a breath, like he's fallen through a frozen pond and gotten trapped under the ice.

"It's okay," Shiro soothes. He kisses Keith's temple. "Crying is okay, Keith."

"I'm not crying," Keith says. He is, but he needs to stop. He needs to be there for Shiro. He needs to be happy for him.

He blinks the tears from his eyes… and he sees that Shiro is crying too. It's subtle, but his cheeks are wet, and his voice is quiet and rough when he speaks.

"I don't want to go without you," Shiro says.

Keith is stunned. This mission is everything Shiro has ever wanted. It's his dream, his chance.

"Shiro," he sobs.

"See?" Shiro nods. He pulls Keith close and presses their cheeks together. "It's okay. We can cry together."

Keith sniffles. He's holding a handful of Shiro's shirt.

"But… I'm happy for you," he says. "You're supposed to feel good about this. I'm supposed to be there for you."

"You are. And I do. I feel so, so happy that you'll miss me, Keith. I'll miss you every day."

Keith lets out another quiet sob, and relief immediately follows. It feels good to cry. Shiro says it's okay, so it must be true. Shiro is crying too.

They cry and sniffle together, still holding each other close. They touch each other's hair and dry each other's tears. They smile at each other with flushed cheeks and wet lashes.

Shiro finally notices that Keith has his fern tied around his wrist, and he starts playing with the cord, then kissing Keith there, just underneath the heel of his hand where he's sensitive.

That feels good, too. It feels so right. Keith feels better.

"You're going to be amazing," he tells Shiro. He hiccups. "And I'll write to you. I'll be right there with you the whole time. And-- I made you something, too."

He pulls away from Shiro to open his night stand drawer and takes out a small black box. He wipes at his face one more time and then hands the box to Shiro, who looks absolutely delighted.

"You made a gift for me?"

"Yeah. Open it."

Shiro does.

Inside the box, there is an exact replica of his hoverbike, fashioned out of some gray iridescent material and small enough to fit in his palm.

"Wow," he murmurs, picking up the figure to look at the tiny details. "Damn, this is gorgeous… what's it made of? I can barely even feel it in my hand..."

Keith grins.

"Same material as the hull of the new shuttle."

Shiro's eyebrows go up. He's smiling.

"Pretty sure that formula is classified."

Keith shrugs.

"Had to use your key card for something. I wanted to make it light enough that you could take it with you if you wanted to… and I wanted it to be tough. Unbreakable."

Shiro shakes his head. He clears his throat.

He wipes another tear away from his cheek.

"It's gorgeous, Keith."

Keith supports Shiro's hand with his palm and points to the front of the figure.

"I did the details by hand," he says. "Or, well, I drew them by hand before I put the whole design together to print. I wanted to etch them on myself, but none of the small scale lasers in the lab are strong enough to mark it."

Shiro shakes his head.

"Amazing. I love it. I'll keep it with me all the time." He strokes down one of the wings with his fingertip. He laughs a little bit. "It's… sexy," he says.

"Like your bike."

Shiro looks at him.

"Like you."

Keith swallows.

When Shiro looks at him like that, he feels it everywhere, as if Shiro's hands are already moving all over his body.

"I want to be," says. "I want to learn. I want to know what you like."

Shiro watches him for a moment.

He closes the hoverbike figure back in its box and reaches across Keith to place it safely on his night stand.

Then he rests his hand lightly at the front of Keith's throat, and slowly slides it down to run his fingertips over Keith's exposed collarbone.

"Did you think about me?" he asks. "When you were getting dressed?"

Keith nods.

"Yes."

"Mm." Shiro tugs at the neckline of his tank, which hangs loose midway down his sternum. "You wanted me to look at you?"

Keith swallows again.

"Yes."

Shiro leans in close. He kisses Keith once, softly.

"I like that," he says. "I like your confidence. I like that you made me think about touching you all day."

Keith slides his arms around Shiro's neck.

"You did?"

"Yes."

Keith touches his way up the back of Shiro's neck, then tugs at the smooth, short hair he finds there.

"Then you should probably touch me," he says.

Shiro smirks. He bumps their noses together.

"There is it," he says. "That's what I like."

In a whirl of color and movement, Keith finds himself on his back with Shiro bearing down on him, looking fond and hungry all at once.

Shiro kisses the side of his face and hovers close, feeling his way down to Keith's left hip.

"You've never worn these to the gym with me," Shiro says, probing just inside the waistband of Keith's leggings with his thumb. "Tell me why."

 _"Ah,"_ Keith answers, shivering. "Because you would've seen me getting hard."

Shiro kisses the corner of his mouth.

"You hid it so well." He slides his hand down another inch. He runs his thumb over the head of Keith's rigid cock, letting it slide across the smooth fabric. "Always looking out for me. Trying to protect me. But you knew you didn't have to do that tonight."

 _"Nh--"_ Keith's thoughts are getting fuzzy. "No, I-- I wanted you to know. I wanted you to see."

Shiro nods, still thumbing carefully over the line of his dick.

"Sexy," he says. "I'll show you how sexy you are."

He finally meets Keith for a proper kiss. Soft lips fit together and then give way to heated wetness, and Keith opens wide for him, tilting his head and making quiet sounds as Shiro explores the inside of his mouth. It's like falling in slow motion, hanging in the open air, high on the height and the anticipation- except it's not the ground he's waiting to crash into. It's Shiro.

"Roll over," Shiro tells him. He licks at Keith's mouth. "I want to see you."

Keith stifles a groan, gazing up into his quicksilver eyes. He's never seen Shiro drunk, but he wonders if he would look like this- relaxed and heavy-lidded and just a little bit out of control.

Shiro sits back to give him space… and Keith rolls over onto his stomach.

He takes his time with it, pressing his face into his pillow, rolling his shoulders, arching his back… and then he goes up on his knees, just a tiny bit, just enough to see how Shiro will react--

"Jesus," Shiro mutters. "Goddamn."

One of Shiro's hands comes to rest on his hip. His palm slides up alongside the slope of Keith's spine, bringing Keith's red tank along with it.

"Off," Shiro says softly.

Keith wants to grind his dick against the bed.

Instead, he slips the tank top off, then settles onto his chest again, swaying his hips subtly as he goes.

It has the desired effect.

Shiro makes a low, growling sound.

Keith hears rustling, and then he feels the weight of Shiro's body draping over him. Shiro's chest is bare, his shirt tossed aside. Keith presses back to meet him… and groans at the feeling of Shiro's cock pressing against his backside, still trapped in his sweats.

"You're killing me," Shiro sighs in his ear, nuzzling into his hair. "I don't know where to look. Your body is incredible… but I missed your pretty face."

Keith rocks back against him and tilts his chin to find Shiro's mouth… and he does. He nips at Shiro's lower lip and licks at his tongue, and Shiro feels him up all the while- touching down his hip bone, pressing into his belly, palming down over the swell of his cock-

 _"Oh,"_ Keith breathes out, reaching back to run his hand through Shiro's hair. "Shiro…"

 _"Yeah."_ Shiro presses harder with the heel of his hand, grinding it over the shaft of Keith's cock- and it's enough to make Keith see stars behind his closed eyelids. "So hard for me…"

"Just for you," Keith tells him. "In the gym… in the shower… here in my room… it's all for you."

Shiro nips at the rim of his ear.

"Here in your room?" He's rubbing into Keith's cock now, working him up with the subtle grinding of his hand. "Tell me…"

Keith weaves his fingers through the longest part of Shiro's hair and tugs.

"I started getting myself off," he says. "Before we'd spar. I'd come back here…" He rocks his dick against Shiro's palm. "I'd think about you and… _ahh…"_

"And what?" Shiro's grinding against his backside now, forcing Keith’s hips down so he can palm and squeeze at his dick. "Tell me baby, don't stop-"

"Why-?"

Shiro makes a laughing sound, right up against his ear.

"Because I think you have a dirty mouth," he says, rubbing into Keith's cockhead, "and I think I fucking love it."

Keith growls, low and hungry.

"I'd fuck my pillow," he says. "I'd think about putting you on your back, and then I'd fuck my pillow until I came."

Shiro growls in answer. He yanks the elastic out of Keith's hair and works his hand through the silky stands, mouthing hot and hard at Keith's face.

"Keep talking." He makes it sound like an order. "And stay right where you are."

He draws Keith in for one more kiss, using a handful of his hair to tilt his chin, and Keith goes willingly.

He'll give Shiro anything he wants.

Anything.

They're both panting when they part. Shiro looks in Keith's eyes, and then he's gone for a moment, and Keith is cold, missing his weight and his warmth… until he feels Shiro's hands gripping the backs of his thighs, and something hot and wet probing against the outline of his cock over his leggings…

 _"Fuck,"_ he breathes out, shivering. Shiro is on his back underneath him, mouthing at his dick, nudging and _kneading_ at it with his nose and his cheek.

"Keep talking," Shiro repeats, his voice muffled by the fabric of Keith's leggings. "Did it feel like this? Your pillow?"

 _"No,"_ Keith groans, rocking down against Shiro's mouth. "I imagined you, but it wasn't even close, you're-- _nhhh._ You feel so fucking good, Shiro, I'm-- _ahah…"_

Keith loses his train of thought, lost in the feeling of Shiro sucking on his cockhead through his leggings. He's close already, embarrassingly so, given that Shiro's only touched him through two layers of clothing- but it's still the sexiest, most erotic thing that's ever happened to him.

"Shiro," he mumbles, arching his back. Shiro is feeling him up, massaging his balls with one hand, kneading into his backside with the other, all while he sucks and teases up and down Keith's throbbing cock. "Holy-- fucking-- _ahh…"_

Shiro curses in answer, pressing his whole face to the line of Keith's dick like he can't get enough of it.

"Close, baby?"

_"Yes…"_

Shiro kisses his cockhead once more… then hooks his fingers into the waistband of Keith's leggings and finally, _finally_ tugs them down. He doesn't bother trying to take them off, just leaves them riding low on Keith's hips so he can get his hand around his dick- so he can run his cockhead over his tongue and mouth along his shaft-

 _"Ohh--_ oh my God--"

"Fuck, baby you taste so sweet… you want to come in my mouth?"

Keith sobs, squeezing two handfuls of the pillow he's resting on.

"Yes, Shiro, _please--"_

"Good boy," Shiro tells him, running Keith's cockhead over his lips as he speaks. "You said you want to know what I like?"

"Yes-- _fuck,_ I want to know everything--'

Shiro licks around the glans, tongues over the slit.

"I like sucking on your pretty cock," he says.

And then he does.

He takes Keith deep in one swallow and holds him there, swirling his tongue, rocking his chin to give him some friction-- and Keith _wails._ Pleasure barrels up his spine and back down again, then pools heavy in his belly, concentrating at the base of his dick, where Shiro's huge hand is rubbing and touching and _kneading,_ fingering through his curls while he swallows and _sucks--_

Keith trembles. His thighs start to shake, his spine starts to bow, his hips start to rock in Shiro's direction--

_"Ngh--"_

Shiro makes a gorgeous, choking sound, clearly in the affirmative, right before he grabs onto Keith's hips and pulls-

_"Hhah--!"_

Keith lets it happen, lets himself fuck messily into Shiro's mouth-

_"Shiro--!"_

He bucks and thrusts, letting Shiro grasp and pull, letting Shiro suck and _squeeze_ him all the way into his throat-

He comes like that, sobbing into his pillow, buried as deep as Shiro can pull him- and it's hot, radiating, all-consuming pleasure like he's never known. He shakes, barely supporting his own weight- though he doesn't need to, because Shiro is gripping his hips hard enough to bruise.

He drifts, shivering while Shiro suckles and licks- while Shiro noses at his cock and kisses his lower belly.

"Keith…" His voice is tender and rough. "So pretty… and you taste like honey…" Shiro kisses into his curls. "... And you're still hard, sweetheart…"

"Mm." Keith sniffs, still overwhelmed by the force of his pleasure. He knows he's somewhat unique in this way. They've just never talked about it before. "I can stay hard sometimes. I have to distract myself before I can get soft."

"Ooh…" Shiro kisses at his shaft. "So sexy… so special… I'm gonna help you back down now, okay?"

"Mhm…"

Shiro scoots out from underneath him and helps him lay flat. Then he rolls him over carefully and bends low to look in his eyes.

"Still with me?"

Keith puts his hands on Shiro's hips. He's pleased to find that Shiro had discarded the rest of his clothing.

"I've never felt like that," he says. He lets one hand wander to the rigid length of Shiro's dick. "I've never felt so good in my life."

Shiro smiles. He leans down to press their cheeks together.

"That's how I feel," Shiro tells him. "That's what it's like when I'm with you."

Keith hugs him tight. He kisses Shiro's cheek.

"My turn?" he asks. "I want to do that for you."

Shiro looks at him. He's all soft sweetness, even though he's leaking pre all over Keith's hand.

"You sure, sweetheart?"

"Yes."

Shiro nods.

"We'll go slow. No need to rush. I just want to feel you."

Keith strokes up Shiro's length, slowly, deliberately.

"How do you want me, Shiro?"

"Ooh." Shiro clears his throat. "Just like this. So I can see your pretty face, your pretty eyes…"

He caresses down Keith's cheek, kisses him softly… then rises up onto his knees.

He moves easily up Keith's body until he's straddling his chest.

He looks in Keith's eyes, takes his cock in hand, and cants his hips forward to wet Keith's lips with his pre.

"So beautiful," he practically purrs. "I've thought about getting you on your back, too."

Keith shivers at that, his body still thrumming with sensitivity, his dick still hard between his legs.

"Yeah?" he prompts. "Like this?"

Shiro nudges his cockhead against Keith's lower lip, and Keith opens his mouth.

"All kinds of ways," he murmurs, pushing just barely inside Keith's mouth. "I'd think about it while I watched your videos. Never thought about using my pillow… but I'd fuck my hand, thinking about you."

Keith's eyelashes flutter. He squirms against the bed… then gives in to the redoubling pleasure and takes himself in hand.

Shiro tilts his head. He knows.

"That's it," he says. "Touch yourself, baby. I was. I almost came too, when I had you in my throat."

Keith _moans…_ and Shiro pushes further in, angling left to pillow his cockhead in the inside of Keith's cheek.

 _"Nhh."_ He rocks his hips forward, sliding himself across Keith's tongue. "So good, baby… so soft inside…"

Keith blinks up at him, enamored, pumping his cock, which is still wet with Shiro's spit.

"This okay?" Shiro reaches down to take Keith's chin in hand, to keep his mouth open wide. "I don't want to hurt you, baby."

Keith bobs his head in answer, taking Shiro's cock into the inside of his cheek again.

"Ooh…" Shiro cradles Keith's jaw with his palm and works his hips, slipping into a careful rhythm. "Yeah, baby, that's all I need-- fuck, you're all I need, Keith…"

Keith nods as well as he can, and Shiro gets the message. He caresses Keith's cheek and slips his other hand into Keith's hair, showering him with affection as much as he's stabilizing his head. He rocks in and out, stretching Keith's lips wide, making quiet, blissed out sounds while Keith takes him over and over again. Keith pumps his own cock at that same steady pace, holding tight to the back of Shiro's thigh, memorizing the way the pleasure shows in Shiro's face- in the way his chin tips back, and the way his eyebrows draw together, and the way his thighs shiver and tense.

He's beautiful.

He's the most beautiful thing Keith has ever seen.

Keith loves him more than breathing, more than flying, more than the stars and all their planets and moons.

Keith loves him.

He slides his hand up to grip at Shiro's hip and pulls, urging him forward, pleading for him the only way he can… and Shiro _whimpers._

He braces one hand on the wall, holds Keith's head steady, and fucks into his mouth with quick, measured thrusts. Keith moans, fisting his sensitive cock, watching Shiro fall apart above him like he's always dreamed of doing-

"Keith-- _ahh--"_ Shiro bucks, but Keith's right there, ready to take anything Shiro wants to give him. "Baby, please-- can I come on your chest?"

Keith nods. He squeezes Shiro's hip.

 _Please,_ he tries to say, blinking up at Shiro through damp lashes, the ache in his jaw only adding to his pleasure. _Please--_

 _"Baby,"_ Shiro groans, thrusting once, and again, and again--

And then he's pulling out, sitting up on his knees, jerking his cock while Keith bucks and moans and _fucks_ up into his own hand-

Shiro spills all over Keith's chest while Keith comes all over his stomach, and they call out to each other in broken, halting syllables.

Shiro makes a sobbing sound as he runs his cock through the mess on Keith's chest… and then he shifts further down so he can bend low and lap it up with his tongue. Keith is dizzy, barely hanging on to reality at this point, and the feeling of Shiro's tongue running up his sternum and over his pecs, teasing his nipples and cleaning his skin, has him breathing heavy and heating back up again until-

 _"Fuck,"_ he mutters, wrapping his hand around his cock again, already hurtling toward another climax. "Shiro, _please, don't stop--"_

Shiro looks up at him from where he's been mouthing at his nipple. His eyes go wide with realization and he starts to tease and suck instead, lapping messily at splashes of his own cum while he worships Keith's chest--

_"Yeah like that fuck Shiro please please--"_

Shiro growls and sucks and _bites_ into the meat of Keith's pec- and Keith loses it. He curls up underneath Shiro and comes and _comes,_ his whole body tense and humming with waves of overwhelming pleasure, his cock throbbing dry in his hold.

"Oh, baby, look at you…"

Keith sobs and shudders as Shiro's arms wrap around him, as Shiro's lips brush sweet and soothing against his cheek.

"Amazing," Shiro murmurs, holding him tight. "So special, Keith…"

Keith grabs at Shiro's arms, urging him even closer, caught in an undertow of bliss.

"Shiro," he chokes out, tangling their legs together. _"Shiro…"_

"I'm here, baby. I'm right here."

Keith feels safe and seen and _loved_ like he's never felt in his life.

 _I love you,_ he wants to say. He wants to say it so badly. _I love you, Shiro._

But he doesn't.

Shiro can't stay.

This is a prologue, and it's coming to a close.

It'll mean more when Shiro comes home, he tells himself. It'll mean more when I'm older.

_It isn't time yet._

Keith clings to Shiro, shuddering toward euphoria.

_It isn't time._

He buries his face in Shiro's arm and mouths the words against his skin.

_I love you._

* * *

Keith wakes in the middle of the night to the feeling of Shiro combing gently through his hair. He's been sleeping in Shiro's lap while Shiro sits up against the pillows he piled against the wall.

It's dark. Everything feels dreamlike.

Keith feels like he's floating, or like he's suspended in water. Thrums of pleasure still work their way through him, from his tailbone to his toes, from his chest out to his fingertips.

It's not enough.

He moves slowly, sluggishly, until he's straddling Shiro's lap.

He drapes his arms around Shiro's neck and presses his face to Shiro's cheek.

"You should be sleeping," he mumbles, pretending to scold.

"I was. But then… I missed you."

Keith shifts his hips. They're both naked from head to toe.

 _"Don't worry,"_ he whispers. _"I'll tire you out again."_

They kiss each other slowly, sleepily.

They rock and grind until they're hard all over again.

They'll make love like this one day, Keith thinks. When it's time, they will.

"Keith…" Shiro's voice breaks. His cheeks are wet. "Don't stop, okay?"

Keith pets his hair and kisses away his tears. He moves his hips while Shiro takes them both in hand.

He rocks and grinds and coaxes Shiro back to bliss… and then he lays him down and kisses him to sleep.

* * *

"Keith…?"

Keith opens his eyes.

Shiro is sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed only in a pair of briefs. There's dim almost-light filtering through his blinds.

It's almost morning.

Keith sits up.

"Shiro?" He rubs at his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine, sweetheart. I brought you some water."

Keith accepts the bottle Shiro must have retrieved from his mini fridge. He takes a long drink, then replaces the cover and sets it down on his nightstand. He reaches for Shiro, who slips onto the bed and pulls him close to cuddle him against the wall.

"I have one more surprise for you," Shiro says. He's holding his datapad.

"Careful," Keith teases. "You'll spoil me."

"Mm. That's the idea."

Shiro sets the datapad down in his lap and taps at it.

Keith's viewscreen turns on.

It's an image of the Earth from space, though at relatively close range, probably taken from something in orbit. Most of the planet is shrouded in darkness, but the sun is just beginning its climb over the horizon, lighting the nearest clouds in blazing gold.

"Sunrise," Shiro murmurs. "You said we should watch it together. When I come home, I'll take you to the desert. We'll bring a telescope, camp out all night. We'll watch the sun come up together. But for today… I thought this could be the next best thing."

Keith looks at him.

"This is live?"

Shiro smiles, shrugs a little.

"I took control of a satellite. I mean, it was passing the right way anyway…"

Keith giggles.

"You pirated a satellite just to show me the sunrise?"

Shiro reaches up to smooth Keith's unruly hair away from his face.

"I'd do so much more than that for you, Keith."

 _Take me with you,_ Keith's heart wants him to plead. _Don't go where I can't follow._

"It's perfect," he says instead. "It's all been perfect, Shiro."

Shiro touches his cheek, his lips, his chin.

"Is it okay if we say goodbye here?" he asks. "I don't know what I'll do if I can't kiss you goodbye."

Keith nods.

"Don't say goodbye at all. We'll just watch the sunrise, and maybe I'll fall asleep…"

"Yeah." Shiro's voice is thick. He pulls Keith close and kisses his forehead. "You can sleep, baby. And I'll be right here…"

Keith settles into his arms. He rests his cheek on Shiro's shoulder.

"You'll be home soon," he says.

"And you'll be here waiting."

Keith nuzzles at Shiro's neck.

 _"I will be,"_ he whispers. _"I promise."_

They watch the sun burn its way over the horizon. The clouds and the ocean shimmer and shine in hues of gold and bronze.

"Isn't there an old song about sleeping in the desert?" Keith asks. "I can almost hear it. Something my dad used to play."

Shiro noses at his forehead.

"The Eagles?" he suggests. "'Peaceful Easy Feeling?'"

"Hmm. Maybe."

 _"And I wanna sleep with you in the desert tonight,"_ Shiro sings. _"With a billion stars all around."_

Keith closes his eyes.

"That's it," he says. "That's the song." He snuggles closer and lays his head on Shiro's chest. "I've never heard you sing before. Will you keep going?"

Shiro does.

Keith closes his eyes.

He doesn't look at the screen again.

He keeps his eyes shut tight and listens to the rich, lovely hum of Shiro's voice.

* * *

When Shiro kisses Keith goodbye, he's fast asleep.

When Keith wakes again, Shiro is gone.

* * *

Shiro lets his gloved fingers trail over the armrest of the pilot's chair in the cockpit of the shuttle. It's all but brand new. He's the only one who's ever flown this great machine, this consummate achievement of humankind. He'll be representing his species at the furthest reaches of their solar system.

He's flawed, he knows. He's not a perfect ambassador. But his colleagues have deemed him worthy.

Keith thinks he's worthy.

It's the highest honor he could hope to earn.

He removes Keith's hoverbike figure from one of the chest pockets of his suit and places it inside the clear, protective case that's built into the wall above his console. When the Garrison was first established, crew members were required to keep all their personal items stored under their bunks, or secured to the wall nearby where they slept. Years later, officers had petitioned for cockpit storage, so they could see their photographs and mementos while they flew.

It would help with morale, they'd said.

It would also let them keep their loved ones closer in the event of their deaths. Crew members were much more likely to meet their ends in the cockpit, they argued. They wanted to see their parents and spouses and children in their final moments, if it came to that.

Shiro has no photographs to store, no other mementos he feels the need to carry with him. Only Keith's gift, his blessing, his memory.

He runs his gloved fingertip over its wing one more time before he closes the case. When they breach the upper atmosphere and leave gravity behind, the tiny hoverbike will float. It'll be weightless, suspended, forever flying.

"That's new," Sam says, nodding toward the shimmering figure. He's arranging family photos in his own case; Matt and Colleen and Katie smile at Shiro in perfect snapshots.

"It was a gift," Shiro says. "From someone I'll miss."

Sam tilts his head.

"Someone new?"

"Yes."

Shiro looks through the window at the front of the cockpit and off into the distance. He thinks he can see Keith far away on their rooftop.

"Sam… how did you cope? The first time you had to leave Colleen for a long time?"

Sam chuckles.

"I'm not sure if this is what you want to hear… but I don't remember. We've made so many memories since then. All the good times have taken the place of whatever hurt I must've felt back then."

Shiro nods slowly.

"And she loves the work," Sam continues. "She believes in it as much as I do. She thinks it's worth the sacrifice." He puts his hand on Shiro's shoulder. "You believe that too, Shiro. Am I right?"

"Yes. You're right."

Sam smiles.

"And I'll bet your person believes it, too."

Shiro nods again.

"He does."

"Then do the work. You're the best man for it. I'll bet he knows that. And if he's the right one for you… you can't even imagine the good times you'll have ahead of you when you come home. So many memories, so much happiness you'll lose track of it all." Sam looks at his photos, at his wife and son and daughter. "I used to think I couldn't have it all. I thought I'd have to do this sort of job alone. And I was wrong, Shiro. I was dead wrong."

Matt joins them in the cockpit and drapes his arm around his father's shoulders.

"What were you wrong about? Say it again, nice and slow, just let me get it on tape…"

Sam laughs.

"I'll make a recording for you. You can send it to your mother for her birthday."

Shiro smiles, feeling lighter than he's felt since he left Keith alone in his quarters.

He turns back to the front of the cockpit and holds his datapad up in front of his eyes. He uses the magnification feature to scan the Garrison campus, searching farther than his eyes can see… and he finds Keith standing on their rooftop, looking tall and strong with his chin lifted high. He's wearing his uniform and his hair is loose and flying in the breeze, and his fierce, focused expression makes him look much older than seventeen.

The fern Shiro gave him is tied to his left wrist.

Shiro captures the image and saves it to a private folder.

He sends Keith a text:

_Looks good on your wrist._

He snaps a photo of the hoverbike figure and sends that too.

Keith answers a moment later:

_Looks good in your ship._

Shiro stares at the message for a long moment, trying to figure out how to answer. He can't say what he wants to. It'll be two years before he can claim Keith as his own.

 _Keep the fire going for me,_ he decides to say.

 _Always,_ Keith answers. _It'll be brighter than ever._

Shiro decides to follow Keith's lead.

He takes his seat in the pilot's chair and lifts his chin proudly toward the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of the pre-Kerberos portion of this fic! I posted the epilogue as the next work in the series. Please take a minute to drop me a line if you enjoyed the story!


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